Three Worlds Collide
by JJ Rust
Summary: A hockey tournament brings together X-Men Iceman, Rogue and Kitty, American wizards Jimmy O'Bannon and Rosa Infante, and a centaur from Narnia named Violar Wildfire. Co-written with Jazzcat.
1. A Magical Road Trip

"By the mane, you two have been cooped up in this car for too long," declared Violar, laughing. "I thought I was the one with claustrophobia!"

Squealing like teenage girls, Marie and Kitty tumbled out of the car and ran into the bare winter trees surrounding the campus of Quinnipiac University in Hamden, Connecticut. They dashed back and forth, shrieking, and Marie even risked taking off her glove and darting at Kitty. Laughing, Kitty phased right through Marie's hand.

"My power's better than yours!" Kitty taunted playfully, sticking out her tongue at Marie. Marie hollered something unintelligible in response, and they were off again.

Violar stood by the car, shaking her head as Bobby came around to join her. She glanced at the blond young man, who stared after the girls with a wistful smile.

"Thanks so much for bringing me to Connecticut, Bobby."

Violar's heartfelt remark brought Iceman's attention back to the centaur. "Oh, no problem. Thanks for joining the expedition. The flu bug wiped out most of my fanbase."

Violar had to chuckle even as her expression flooded with sympathy. "I hated to leave the children. Gabriel and Julian were hit hard, and I think Jenna was just starting to come down with it. I gave them herbs and put them to bed."

Bobby gave her a sideways look. "They won't stay in bed, you know – no matter how sick they are."

Violar shrugged, but there was no containing the grin that suddenly spread over her face. "Yes they will," she said smugly. When Bobby raised an eyebrow, Violar explained. "I promised that all the children who are well by the time I return get to ride on my back."

Bobby burst out laughing. He moved to the back of the car, shaking his head. "Nicely done, Violar."

"Elementary, my dear Watson," returned the centaur with a flick of her fingers, imitating the famous detective. She ducked into the car and came up with a green tea SOBE, and she booted the door shut as she joined Bobby at the car's hatch. "I'm trying my best not to catch the flu myself. Would you mind?" She held out the glass bottle with a big smile.

Bobby made a face, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then touched Violar's drink. Immediately it frosted over.

"Thank you," said Violar archly with a dazzling smile. "You know, that's one perk I have thoroughly enjoyed about my first-ever road trip: Ice cold drinks the whole way."

Bobby shot her a look. "Anything for a fan," he retorted. "Want to carry my stick?"

Laughing, Violar took it. "What's this? Your centaur fans get to play packhorses?"

Bobby smirked. "Consider it fair payment for the cold drinks service."

"My goodness, I thought we were leaving the real world and all its cares and responsibilities behind when we left Xavier's 90 miles ago," declared the centaur, laughing. "Or so some of us said."

"That's what happens when you hang out with boringly sane people like me." He jerked his chin meaningfully at the girls just as Kitty phased through a thick hedge, leaving Marie outside hollering. Then Kitty slowly materialized on Marie's opposite side, crept around her, and tagged her back. She dashed away, shrieking and laughing as Marie gave chase.

Violar looked squarely at Bobby, and her expression became completely serious. "You're not sane, you're nervous."

"Darn you and your Danger Sense," Bobby grumbled as he hefted a large duffel bag onto his shoulder and slammed the hatch. Then he raised his voice and called out, "Anyone up for a hockey tournament?"

The girls started back, but instead of taking a direct route, they chased each other in figure eights through the trees. Violar stared speculatively at Bobby until he rolled his eyes and looked down at her.

"What?"

"What's what?" asked Violar, smiling.

"Stop that. Are you doing that… whatever you call it… peer-into-people's-souls thing with your Danger Sense?"

Violar had to laugh. "Not exactly, no. I can't… see quite that deep. But now that you mention it, why are you so nervous?"

"Um…" Bobby grimaced and waved his hand, his gaze drifting over the university grounds. "It's been awhile since I've played competitive hockey." He nodded to her, and they started off through the crowded parking lot toward the TD Bank Sports Center arena, leaving Kitty and Marie to catch up. "I wouldn't even be here right now if it weren't for my old youth hockey coach – and this nasty flu bug that's been hammering all of New England. Coach lost a good portion of his roster before the regional tournament and called me up."

Violar nodded, though her gaze had drifted to a banner hanging over the arena entrance: _QUINNIPIAC UNIVERSITY WELCOMES THE NEW YORK/NEW ENGLAND 18U REGIONAL HOCKEY TOURNAMENT._ She studied the big cat logo beside the words.

"What did you say they call this team again?"

Bobby sucked air through his teeth. "Uh, that would be the Flying Tigers."

That sent Violar into a fit of laughter. "Flying Tigers, indeed! The things people come up with in this world. We have some flying animals in Narnia, like flying horses. But no flying tigers."

The Iceman hid a grin behind his hand and shifted the heavy pack more fully onto his shoulder. "Creative Earthlings in many ancient civilizations got bored with birds and took to dreaming up such creatures. But it wasn't that difficult, really. All they had to do was look around, pick an animal, stick wings on it, and viola: Flying Moose. Flying Rabbits. Flying Armadillos. Whatever."

"Flying armadillos!" Violar squealed, laughing.

Bobby rubbed his ear. "What possessed me to bring three _girls_ on this trip? I won't be able to hear a thing my coach says."

Violar shook her head and skipped a step. "Well, as they say in this world, go get 'em, Flying Tiger. The hockey should come right back to you," she added encouragingly. "It's just like… riding a bicycle."

"You can't ride a bicycle," retorted Bobby with a sideways grin.

"That's beside the point!"

Violar was still laughing as they crossed a congested roadway leading to the broad sidewalk at the arena's entrance. There was a large bus parked off to one side, and a number of young people were disembarking and milling about with large duffel bags and hockey sticks. Laughter and meaningless chatter filled the air, and Violar glanced up at the overcast sky, feeling the years melt away from her.

"Bobby?" A lean young man with an athletic build, a round face and conservatively combed brown hair stared at Bobby, his brow furrowed. "Bobby Drake?"

Bobby gave him a curious look, and Violar turned, searching for the source of the voice. Bobby took a couple steps closer to the young man. Recognition blazed on his face. "Oh my God. Jimmy? Jimmy O'Bannon? Is that you?"

Jimmy O'Bannon smiled. "You better believe it is. How are you doin', man?"

They shook hands, then slapped one another on the shoulders so soundly that Violar's eyes widened in shock. When the newcomer, Jimmy, made a fist and punched Bobby's shoulder, Violar started forward in alarm. The ruffian! She'd never stand for that kind of unprovoked attack on one of her friends!

But instead of turning him into a human ice cube, Bobby punched him back with remarkably good-natured humor. His warm, boyish laughter brought the centaur to an abrupt halt.

"Man, I haven't seen you in years." Jimmy beamed at the Iceman. "What the heck are you up to these days?"

"I'm going to a private school in New York," Bobby hedged neatly. "You?"

Jimmy hesitated for a moment. "Oh, I'm at boarding school, too. A little place north of Boston."

Violar arched an eyebrow. Something in his body language, along with the mild prickling in her Danger Sense, told her that Jimmy O'Bannon was keeping a secret. And somewhere in the middle of what he wasn't sharing was the school he attended.

"So Coach Mahay roped you into this tournament too, huh?" Jimmy was saying.

Bobby nodded and shifted his weight. Despite his heavy duffel bag, he seemed content to stand there and chat. "Yeah. He told me half the team is down with the flu."

"Heh! Seems like half of Boston's got the flu. My mom got nailed with it yesterday. It's staying away from me, thank God. Oh well, much as it sucks for everyone who has it, it worked out well for us. We're back on the ice again."

"I know." Bobby smiled. "I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. It's been a while since I played in a real game."

Jimmy gave him a dismissive wave. "Ah, don't worry. Soon as you hit the ice, it'll all come back to you."

"Yeah, you're probably right." A wicked grin crossed Bobby's lips. "Besides, sometimes being on the ice just feels natural."

Violar suppressed a laugh. Bobby was keeping secrets and dropping hints all at the same time, and the centaur couldn't help but appreciate the hidden wit.

But her laughter drew their attention to her as she stood there in her cream trench coat, holding a hockey stick in one hand and a frosted green tea SOBE in the other.

"Who's your friend?" Jimmy nodded to Violar. She noticed Jimmy give her a quick, appraising glance, and she was abruptly aware that she'd been staring intently at him. She lowered her eyes with a little smile.

"Her name's Violar," replied Bobby, pivoting to include the centaur. "She goes to my school. Violar, Jimmy O'Bannon."

Violar stepped forward and shifted her drink and stick to free one hand for a warm handshake. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Master O'Bannon," she said with genuine politeness. Despite her initial misgivings, Jimmy had a friendly and cheerful demeanor that put her immediately at ease – aside from the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Jimmy was definitely hiding something.

"'Master O'Bannon?'" Jimmy drew his head back in surprise. "You don't have to be so formal. It's just Jimmy."

Violar grinned, a little embarrassed. "Master" was a perfectly acceptable greeting in Narnia – a show of respect, especially when first meeting someone. Humans, as she'd learned in the past few months, seemed to think such formalities not worth the effort.

"My apologies. Jimmy it is, then. So you and Bobby know each other?"

"Yeah. We played on the same youth hockey team when we were kids. Never forget this one time when we were playing . . . oh man, who was it? The team with that stupid name. Oh yeah! The Snow Clams."

Violar burst into startled laughter. "That's even more ridiculous than the Flying Tigers," she remarked to Bobby. She glanced back just in time to catch another admiring glance from Jimmy, and her cheeks warmed as she lowered her head slightly and retreated a step. But she didn't excuse herself from the interaction completely, and Jimmy went on.

"Anyway, they had this guy who was an absolute bruiser, just towered over Bobby and me. Spent most of the game knocking us both around. Finally, this kid gets Bobby in a corner and starts pushing him against the boards. So Bobby had enough of that crap. He turns around and _pow! _Nails the kid right in the mouth. Blood comes pouring out of his mouth, and the kid, this big, tough kid, starts crying! It was something, man."

Violar gasped, horrified and amused all at once. She narrowed her eyes at Jimmy.

Bobby didn't seem to notice her reaction. "Do you also remember I got suspended two games for that?"

"Yeah." Jimmy shrugged. "But the kid was a jerk, so it was worth it, right?"

Bobby smiled. "Yeah, it was."

The two slapped high-fives, and Violar gave her head a little bewildered shake. Just when she started feeling more comfortable with this world, another solid dose of their culture whipped her senses into a tailspin.

"Friend of yours?"

Violar looked up at the new voice. A girl about 5'7 with a trim figure, smooth, tan features and black, shoulder-length curly hair strode up to them. Jimmy introduced her as a friend from his boarding school named Rosa Infante.

Bobby, ever the charmer, stepped up and shook Rosa's hand. Violar noticed how Rosa's eyes roamed up and down Bobby as they shook hands, and she blinked again at what would have been considered a breech of etiquette in Narnia. When it was her turn to shake Rosa's hand, the centaur was immediately struck by the intensity in her dark eyes – the kind of intensity Violar had only seen in the eyes of warriors. Rosa seemed friendly enough, but there was something more about her – something deeper.

And she was Jimmy O'Bannon's schoolmate.

"Delighted," Violar said, smiling and searching Rosa's dark eyes – and her Danger Sense – at the same time. But there were walls closed off to her, and the centaur felt that she had much more to find out about Rosa Infante.

At that moment, they were joined by the two mutant girls, Kitty and Marie. Violar let Bobby handle the introductions as her eyes strayed longingly to the arena entrance.

As if she'd sensed Violar's thoughts, Kitty spoke up. "So are we going to loiter around here and freeze our butts off, or can we go inside and get started? Bobby, you probably have to go warm up or something. The rest of us have a date with the concessions stand."

Violar's stomach growled, and she shot a pleading look between Kitty and Bobby. "Oh, please, yes. I'm starving." She included Jimmy in her glance and explained, "Bobby doesn't like to stop for anything, so we haven't eaten since breakfast."

"An' he's got'a lead foot," Marie chimed in with her thick Southern accent. "Ah felt like Ah was sittin' in on a Nascar race."

Grinning and shaking his head, Bobby snatched his stick from Violar and headed off to join the rest of the Flying Tigers, flanked by Jimmy and Rosa. Violar, Kitty and Marie passed through the glass entrance, and Violar looked around the huge foyer in awestruck wonder while Kitty paid for their tickets. A custodian wearing an official yellow jacket eyed Violar.

"You're gonna need to either drink that or get rid of it, miss." He nodded at her SOBE, which Violar had all but forgotten.

"Oh! Certainly, sir. A moment, please." She unscrewed the lid and drank the entire glass bottle dry while the girls goggled at her and the custodian stared.

Violar lowered the bottle, became abruptly aware that she was the center of attention, and blushed. "I hope I didn't make anyone jealous," she offered with a little smile. "But it _was_ delicious."

The girls giggled, and the custodian shook his head as he handed Kitty the tickets. They moved deeper into the foyer. A vendor was selling T-shirts commemorating the tournament at one table, and at another, a group of several young adults holding clipboards eyed the passing hockey fans with unnervingly speculative glances. The sign on their yellow tablecloth read: _Sign up for information about Quinnipiac University!_

A young woman in a business suit stepped up to Violar. "Would you like to learn more about the courses Quinnipiac University has to offer?" she asked in a voice as coolly polite as her smile. "You can sign up for our email newsletter."

Caught up in the energized atmosphere of the TD Bank Sports Center, Violar spared her a glance and shook her head. "Thank you, no. I don't have email."

The woman gave Violar a miffed look – clearly not believing a word Violar had said –and drifted back to her table, already searching out her next victim. Violar swept an eager gaze over banners and team photos for Quinnipiac's basketball and hockey teams, trying to imagine the height of the ladder they'd needed to situate anything that high on the walls.

"I would be… a little afraid to take any of you to Narnia's sporting arenas," said Violar softly to her companions. "You'd be sadly disappointed. Once upon a time, I had been amazed at the impressive architecture that went into the Sted Cair arena."

"Who cares about the architecture!" bubbled Kitty, seizing the centaur's hand and dragging her toward the concession counter. "The food is where it's at, girl."

The powerful aromas of hot dogs, nachos and jalapeno-laced cheddar cheese, French fries, buttered popcorn, soft pretzels, hamburgers, and too many other kinds of food for Violar to properly take in nearly sent her into a swoon. Seeing Violar's predicament, Marie wrapped a supportive arm around the centaur's back.

"Easy, tiger," she drawled, grinning. "Ah've seen that light in your eyes – right before ya demolish half a lasagna or somethin'."

Violar gulped and blinked, staring hungrily at the counter. "I could eat _two_ whole lasagnas right now, so if we could please hurry…"

She yelped as Kitty, still attached to her hand, jolted forward and swung them into the back of a maddeningly long line. Violar whimpered.

"I've endured tortures less painful," she remarked. "At least the Sted Cair arena doesn't put Narnian spectators through any of this."

Marie patted the centaur's back with a gloved hand and adjusted her gray hoodie. The color worked well with her striking black hair, framed by twin locks of pure white on either side of her face.

"So what'cha think'a Jimmy?" wondered the Southern girl slyly.

Violar rolled her eyes. "You make me feel so much younger than 46 years old."

"That's the idea, girl!" Marie jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow, and Violar let out a startled little cry and stared at her, astonished. Marie broke up in laughter. "Oh mah Gawd, ya don't get out enough, Vi! Now no more procrastinatin' an' sidesteppin', Ah wanna know what'cha think of Jimmy!"

Straightening up into a dignified pose, Violar smoothed her hand over her bruised ribs and the rumples in her cream trench coat. "I think he is a very nice young man, friendly and well-spoken – and very dedicated to the sport of hockey. He is incredibly protective of those he considers his friends and he hates injustice. He has an intensity about him that you don't see in most people – especially most people his age. He has… secrets. All in all," Violar tilted her head thoughtfully, staring over Marie's head, "a very intriguing fellow."

Kitty broke up in giggles. "You make him sound like a foreign dignitary, the way you described him!"

"That _isn't_ what Ah was talkin' about," Marie joined in, grinning. "Ah think he's cute."

Violar blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor. "Oh my, there's a statement I've rarely heard from you before. I think only, oh, around two or three _hundred_ young men have qualified for such high praise from you."

That earned Violar a second elbow in the ribs. "He's good-lookin'. Admit it!"

The centaur laughed, feeling overwhelmingly foolish. "Alright, he is… cute, too. Aslan makes many good-looking men."

Kitty shook her head and folded her arms over her pink sweater. "You're impossible, Violar Wildfire. You never let yourself get cornered! You always have to leave, like, this back door or something."

Violar rubbed her forehead, her shoulders shaking with repressed mirth. "By the mane, I cannot believe I am actually having this conversation with you teenagers."

"You're a teenager in centaur years," retorted Marie with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Ya said so yaself!"

Violar quirked an eyebrow and grinned back. "Twenty-one, if you want to get technical. But young centaurs don't engage in such shallow talk."

"What, teenage girl centaurs can't see how cute the boy centaurs are?" Kitty stared challengingly at Violar.

Instinctively Violar glanced around at the noisy lines of people. "Will you keep your voice down?"

Marie scoffed at that. "Changin' the subject, are ya?"

"I am not!" Violar burst out, laughing incredulously. She cast about quickly for something else to say. "What about Rosa? Did you two even see her?"

Marie cuffed her in the shoulder. "There ya go changin' the subject again!"

"You're no fun," pouted Kitty.

Violar felt her brain turning to putty. "I'm really serious, ladies. Rosa…" Violar abruptly grew thoughtful, frowning a little as she pondered those dark eyes. "It's like she's a centaur in a teenage girl's body. She's even… built like a warrior. In fact, there's… something mysterious about them both… something that isn't quite…" She tilted her head. "Normal."

"Oh, good. They'll fit right in with us," piped up Kitty. "You know, I've half a mind to not let you eat anything until you tell us what you _really_ think of Jimmy."

"Kitty!" cried Violar, staring at her with wide eyes.

Kitty just laughed, and Marie stifled her giggles in one glove. "I'll take the whole tray of food and phase out until you speak your mind," Kitty threatened wickedly.

Violar's color rose, and she gulped, her hungry eyes roving past Kitty to the concessions counter. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would too."

"You're a very bad girl."

Kitty giggled. "I know I am, but I want to know what you think of Jimmy!"

"I _told_ you!" cried Violar, exasperated. "Anyway, never mind. I have my _own_ money, thank you, and I shall make some good choices and, er, educated guesses. What in the world are funnel cakes?"

Marie grinned. "Try one an' see," she invited.

They spent a small fortune on snacks and pushed their way through the crowd migrating into the arena. The indoor air was remarkably cold – so cold that the centaur's breaths came in puffs of steam around her face – and her wide eyes swept from the ice rink in the center of the building to the large yellow bars that spanned the high ceiling. Steep cement steps led down to rows of blue folded chairs. Violar was so captivated by the sight of hockey players already gliding around the arena that she nearly forgot to watch her step. She stumbled, and Marie reached out and saved her from a terrible fall.

"Sorry," apologized the bewildered centaur, but she could hardly keep from staring around at the large crowd milling through the stands, half of whom were already seated in anticipation of the game. The feeling of being only one centaur in such a massive building filled with several hundred people was breathtaking – even though the arena was mostly empty.

"These are our seats," said Kitty abruptly. She turned aside to allow Violar to enter the skinny row first.

At once the centaur's wonderstruck face clouded. "Uh oh, that's not good."

"What's wrong?" asked Marie, coming up behind her.

Violar shot her a startled glance. "Can't you see? Our chairs are… collapsed or perhaps broken or something." At Marie's continued bewilderment, Violar's eyebrows jumped in astonishment as she nodded with her chin. "The seats, er, lack seats."

Both girls laughed so hard that Violar was obliged to rescue their snacks by taking the food away from them. "It's not funny. Does this mean we should find other seats, or seek a refund? Because…"

Violar trailed off as she studied the rows of seats more closely for the first time. Every unoccupied seat in the arena was folded in the same impossible way.

She tilted her head, turning a puzzled gaze to Kitty and Marie. "Are we supposed to _stand_ the whole time?"

Both girls lost it. They laughed and fell against each other, brushing at the tears that streamed down their cheeks. Violar had the sinking feeling that she'd committed yet another blunder in the world of New York, and her cheeks colored with embarrassment while she waited for the girls to snap out of it.

It was Marie who found her voice first. "Mah Gawd, Vi – ya liven up any ole situation, an' ya manage to joke when ya ain't jokin'. That's real talent. Now watch closely…"

With that, the mutant girl disentangled herself from Kitty, pushed down on the lower section of the chair, and sat down on it.

Violar lifted her eyebrows, impressed. "Very nice trick there, Marie. Maybe these seats will work after all. I think I'll just sit here and, while you two are laughing your fool heads off at me, I'll get started with the food."

That remark brought a whole new element of purpose into their lives, and in moments they were seated and munching companionably on hot dogs and nachos. It took Violar only one sniff of a plate-sized funnel cake to decide that she ought to save the odd-looking coils for dessert. While she ate, Violar took the time to read each and every billboard advertisement for the local businesses sponsoring Quinnipiac's sports program.

The people around her drew Violar's attention next. Her location, eight rows behind the benches, gave her an excellent vantage point of the game – and the spectators. There were silent couples sitting together, their eyes riveted on the ice – and the players. The lines in their face spoke of their anxiety, and Violar guessed they were probably parents of the tournament participants.

The other somber, serious-faced folks Violar noticed were men with notebooks, who were watching the players intently. Once in a while, they scribbled in their notebooks, frowning and flipping back and forth through the pages in between glances at the ice. Violar tilted her head slightly, wondering why they didn't appear to be having a good time – although, she granted, they were all business.

Other people showed up in various hockey jerseys and shifted in their seats or on their feet, clearly anxious for the game to get underway. A group of energetic young men laughed hysterically and shoved each other, and Violar's eyes narrowed: They were going to be noisy and rowdy, and with all that pushing and shoving, and a few foamy golden beers in their midst, a fight was bound to break out at any moment. Violar felt that she'd have to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn't get out of hand.

And that was before they suddenly shucked their jackets and pulled off their shirts. Violar stared in shock and almost dropped her hot dog.

"They're insane. What do they think they're doing?" cried Violar in alarm. "They'll catch their death of cold in here!"

Kitty snorted. "They'll be fine," she said carelessly around a mouthful of French fries. "They're boys."

Violar looked at her, puzzled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Kitty just laughed and continued eating, and Violar reluctantly subsided with one last worried glance in their direction. Boys indeed. Now she knew she'd _really_ have to keep an eye on them.

Marie spoke up from behind her bucket of popcorn. "Looks like our boys have the second game of the day," she remarked, her head bent over a program booklet. "Mm…" She scrunched down a popcorn kernel as she read. "They play a team from Kingston, New York, called the Monarchs."

Violar suddenly gulped as nervous butterflies scattered through her stomach. She blinked at the sensation and pressed a hand over her midsection, then set aside the last half of her hot dog and her empty nacho tray. All of a sudden, she wasn't hungry.

"By the mane, we have a long time to wait," she murmured, finding her breath in short supply. She pressed a hand to her forehead, checking to see if she could find any symptoms of illness.

"You okay?" Kitty was looking at her in concern.

Violar nodded uneasily. "I think so. I just felt a little feverish all of a sudden."

"You're probably just excited," offered Kitty.

"You may be right. Even now, the feeling is subsiding a little."

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first game of the New York/New England Eighteen and Under Regional Hockey Tournament," an energetic voice boomed from the large overhead speakers, "sponsored by Radcliffe Ford, TD Bank, Home Depot, SOBE and our host, Quinnipiac University."

Even though her butterflies returned in full force, Violar couldn't help but smile, knowing her favorite beverage was sponsoring this event.

The announcer asked them all to stand for the National Anthem. At the other end of the ice, two members of the arena staff rolled out a small red carpet near the entrance to the locker rooms. A lithe redheaded girl stepped onto the carpet, held up a wireless microphone, and started singing.

Violar drew a breath and held it. Tingles rippled through her body. Such a powerful, melodious voice. This girl was truly gifted. And the words to this National Anthem: So stirring and vivid. She felt as if the ancient battle for America's independence were happening right before her eyes.

While she may not have been an American by birth, Violar nonetheless felt compelled to stand straighter, holding her chin high and staring at the American flag – the Stars and Stripes. A surge of pride welled inside of her, and she suddenly wished that Narnia had a national anthem.

The girl's voice rose to a crescendo as she sang the final line: "O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!"

Violar's features twitched, and she hardened her jaw as tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed hard and joined in the appreciative applause.

"Ah wish Ah had a voice like that," whispered Marie to Violar as the final powerful note faded away.

Violar smiled softly as the clapping died away. "That makes two of us."

The announcer's voice again echoed through the arena. "And now, please welcome to ice, from Pawtucket, Rhode Island, the Pride! And from Amityville, New York, the Ghosts!"

Violar quirked an eyebrow and studied the two teams that poured onto the ice. "I don't see any ghosts out there. But ghosts are supposed to be invisible, right?"

Kitty giggled. "Oh, Violar. Ghosts aren't real."

Marie abruptly turned to them both, her eyes serious. "Yes they are. Ah saw one."

Shaking her head, Kitty scoffed, "You did not."

"Did too! Ah was hidin' in this old broken-down house when Ah rounded the corner an' saw him walk right outta the wall. Ah think Ah startled him as badly as he startled me. He was all frosty-lookin' an' glowy an' kinda transparent. When Ah reached out to touch him, he scrambled backwards an' vanished into the wall."

Kitty poked out her tongue. "A likely story!"

"Ah'm tellin' the truth!"

Violar gazed fixedly at the mutant girl known as Rogue, her silvery eyes searching deep. She was convinced that Marie meant every word.

"In Narnia, there are neevils called specters who fit that description," she said quietly. "They're very evil, and they occasionally drift through our lands to spy for Maeta. You should avoid them whenever possible, Marie. And don't try to touch them."

"Actually, Ah don't think he was evil," said Marie. "He was kinda good-lookin'."

Violar shook her head with an incredulous smile. "Oh please, don't start that again!"

Kitty sat down in a huff and folded her arms. "I don't even know you guys," she said.

Violar glanced over her shoulder with a frown at Kitty's choice of slang, but before she could comment, a loud buzzer brought her attention back to the frozen rink before her. The players wearing red and white jerseys had their team name prominently displayed on the front: The Pawtucket Pride. The other team in silver and black were labeled the Amityville Ghosts.

Violar lifted her eyebrows. The black and silver brigade looked truly imposing, and a little furrow appeared in her brow.

"I will give my support to the Pawtucket Pride," she decided. "The others – the Ghosts – they remind me of some forces of Ettinsmoor I've had to face."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "You mean you're going to 'root' for the Pride," she corrected, bringing another little frown from the centaur. "And the Ghosts aren't the bad guys."

"I never said…" Violar rubbed her forehead, and Marie laughed. Violar switched tactics and suddenly chuckled. "Alright, I'm just rooting for the, er, the good guys," she declared, grinning mischievously at Kitty. "You can root for the bad guys if you want."

Marie collapsed in her chair, laughing, and she gripped the belt of Violar's trench coat.

"Sit down, ya hear? It's gonna be a long game, and it ain't started yet. An' have somethin' else to eat."

Violar stiffly sat down and shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

Kitty blinked and pretended to drill wax out of her ear. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. One more time for the folks at home: What did you say?"

But Violar wasn't listening. She was watching the players glide around the arena, their metal blades scratching into the ice and the sharp crack of the stick against the pucks. They moved with remarkable speed, the centaur thought as her gaze drifted to the thin skates upon which they balanced precariously. After all the trouble Violar had had in transitioning between four legs and two, she wondered if she would ever be able to take her progress a step further. It looked dangerous, standing on the thin blades, but the players made it seem easy to skate over the frozen surface.

Violar was suddenly possessed by a deep desire to try it for herself.

The buzzer sounded again, and an official in black and white stripes glided to the center of the arena. A tension gathered over the building as he held up the puck. And then, he dropped it.

The smooth, relaxed flow of the players instantly changed into something much more dramatic and fierce as they fought for possession of the puck. The Ghosts controlled it first, and Violar was on her feet before she realized it as everyone raced toward the goal. A lone Pride team member awaited them, heavily padded and wearing a barred helmet and mask. The Ghost players arranged themselves in a neat formation. There was a quick, precise pass, and then a lightning-quick shot that bounced off the goalie's armpad.

"Yes!" cried Violar fiercely as a wave of approval rippled over half the crowd. Her eyes glittered as the hockey players dashed in the opposite direction. Two of them suddenly veered sideways and crashed into the plexiglass boards.

Violar yelped. "Foul! Foul! Or… or something! Did you see what he did?" She whirled on Marie. "He – the Ghost fellow – he did it on purpose!"

That had Marie laughing. "Mah Gawd, this is hockey, Vi! Siddown!" Gripping the centaur's trench coat, she pulled Violar into the seat. "They're _supposed_ to be rough!"

Violar blinked. "Football is rough enough, and that would have been a personal foul and a fifteen-yard penalty in football."

Kitty giggled. "The rules are different on the ice, girl. But ooo­–" She suddenly cringed as two more players smashed into the wall. "That was a nasty hit. And there goes the puck the other way."

Violar couldn't help being caught up in the emotion of the game, though much of the time – it seemed to Violar – the puck was being stolen and driven in the opposite direction. Suddenly one of the referees blew his whistle and sent a Ghost into the penalty box to sit and rethink his life for two minutes.

Violar turned to her companions, bewildered. "I don't understand. How was what he did any worse than the conduct the officials have been allowing already?"

"It's hockey," said the girls in unison, and they laughed.

Violar shook her head. "This isn't a game," she breathed, her eyes glittering. "This is more like… a war."

Two minutes into the first period, one of the Pride players reared back with the stick and launched the puck past the heavily-padded goalie and into the top part of the net. Violar shot out of her seat and cheered wildly with the rest of the Pride fans.

The five Pride players on the ice converged, throwing their arms around each another in a group hug. Violar's hands stilled, a little surprised by this display. One thing she had learned about New York society was that it was considered unseemly for men to hug. Yet here were five boys, playing a rough and tumble game, hugging one another without a second thought after a goal.

The centaur smiled and sat down in her chair. It was good to see that some parts of this culture still enjoyed this kind of abandoned, unselfconscious celebration. In Narnia, it was only natural – and after a victorious battle, Violar had been in the middle of a few exuberant group hugs herself.

"That _was _a pretty piece of work," declared Kitty. "Bobby had a term for that kind of shot – you know, the kind that goes into the top part of the net. Marie?"

"Top shelf," Marie replied without hesitation. "Ah remember because Bobby quoted some hockey announcer who said, 'Right where Mommy hides the cookies!'"

Violar laughed, but the mention of cookies made her think of those huge chocolate chip cookies they sold at the concession stand. She'd carried shields into battle nearly the size of one of those cookies. Violar mentally slapped herself for forgetting to buy one.

_I guess I'll just have to make another trip there._

Once the Pride led the scoreboard 1-0, Violar relaxed a little, more content to sit and enjoy the game – and munch. She found the funnel cake so incredibly delicious that her eyes widened, and she attacked it with relish.

Violar was still finishing the crumbs when suddenly a slender woman with coiffed brown hair two rows below the trio shot to her feet and screamed, "That was a trip, ref! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

The plate flipped and spilled the last bits of the funnel cake as Violar's head whipped upright and she stared in shock. _What in the world?!_

The woman didn't stop, and Violar grew more and more appalled. Every minute, it seemed, the woman jumped to her feet and yelled derisive things at the black and white striped officials.

"That was not a penalty, ref! Don't you know the rules!?"

"That's offsides! Offsides! Call it, for God's sake!"

"What's wrong with you!? Don't you know anything about this game!?"

Violar sobered. All of a sudden, she wasn't having as much fun. She glanced at her companions: Kitty pursed her lips and shook her head, then looked away to ignore the woman and watch the game. Marie sighed and picked out another snack to eat.

The woman, however, wasn't the only one screaming her lungs out. A heavyset man in the next row hollered, "Take the damn shot already! What are you waiting for!?"

Another portly man with curled gray hair and a mustache next to Violar bellowed, "Will you put Gary in already!?" He turned to the homely, dark-haired woman sitting beside him. "This is crap! All the money we're paying to have him on this team and the idiot coach keeps him on the bench most games."

"Willie, calm down," urged the woman, probably his wife.

He gave her a sharp, dismissive wave. Then, to Violar's surprise, turned to her. "Do you know my son made First-Team All-County last year? All-County! You wanna explain to me how any coach can keep a kid like that on the bench?"

Violar blinked at him, startled. She hardly knew what to say.

And the man wanted an answer.

"Well…"

Had this been in Bloomingdale's, and had this Willie been an angry customer, Violar would have automatically agreed with him. But since this wasn't Bloomingdale's, and he wasn't a customer, she could be honest with him.

Drawing herself up with centaurian poise, Violar gazed directly into the heat of his glare. "Ah, well, sir, I don't know your son, so I can't say. But if he is not getting the sort of playing time he wants, then perhaps he ought to practice more – if for nothing else than to prove his work ethic to the coach. I hear that helps."

Willie's eyes widened. His face turned deep crimson. Surprise flickered through Violar, and she bit her lip as her brows crinkled. _You'd think I'd just disparaged his son's honor. _The fellow glared at her with a sneer, and Violar instinctively tensed, wondering if this man would strike her. Violar held his gaze, searching for the telltale signs that he was about to make his move. That would have been a grave mistake on his part.

"Didn't you hear what I said about Gary?" Willie bared his teeth. He spoke his next words deliberately. "First Team, All-County. That means he's really, really good." He growled and turned away from Violar without waiting for an answer, staring at the knot of serious-looking men writing in their notebooks a couple sections away. "Look at that. All those scouts here with college scholarships or maybe a pro contract to offer. How can Gary get any of that stuff if they don't see him play!?"

Violar followed his gaze to the men Gary's father had referred to as scouts, slowly comprehending their role. As she looked around her, Violar suddenly saw the tournament as much more than a game. For some people, this tournament could change their lives.

The centaur drew in a little breath, then allowed her gaze to travel over the benches full of teenagers in pads and jerseys. She wondered who Gary was, and – despite the behavior of his father – she felt a twinge of pity for him. If he had so much potential, what _was_ he doing on the bench? Granted, proud fathers tended to exaggerate – especially when their personal pride depended on the success of their child. But what if Gary deserved to be out there, in the spotlight and on display for the scouts?

Kitty noticed the way the distressed centaur was biting her lip, and she leaned over to her.

"Just ignore the moron," she advised in a whisper. "Some parents. You get a few nuts like that in every sport, it seems like."

Violar huffed incredulously. "You mean this is a common occurrence?" she whispered back.

"I know," Kitty replied with a sigh. "It's ridiculous. I went through the same thing when I was little."

Violar blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Kitty nodded. "Oh yeah. I used to play on this soccer team with pretty much seven and eight-year-olds. There'd be parents in the stands screaming at the officials, the coaches – even us."

Overhearing the conversation, Marie leaned over. "No kiddin'. Ah was on this lil' volleyball team when Ah was ten, an' parents was screamin' an' yellin' like we were in the Olympics with gold medals at stake. That really turned me off, an' Ah quit, an' it's a good thing Ah did because if Ah'd kept playin' past the time mah mutation kicked in…"

"The soccer team was just the beginning of it," said Kitty, not to be outdone. Violar glanced between the girls, feeling like a spectator at a cartoon tennis match. "When I was a little older, I had a softball team with a coach who was–"

"Oh Gawd, don't get me started on coaches," Marie interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "Some'a them are insane!"

Violar's mind was spinning, and she could barely keep up mentally. Suddenly she grinned and jumped in.

"Well, when I was a foal, the problem was that there _were_ no officials. So the young centaurs who kicked the hardest won."

Both girls stared at her, and Violar sat back in her seat with a smug grin. Kitty ventured a tentative laugh.

"You serious?"

"Mhmm! Centaurs start training to be warriors right away, because we have a lot of coordination to develop before we even start with fancy hoofwork and formations. There are plenty of sparring matches. And I won my fair share," she went on confidently. "I'd still have the scars to prove it if it weren't for Persica the peach tree dryad. She did a nice job on my coat, I'll have to say."

There was silence over the group for a moment as Kitty and Marie gaped at her. Suddenly the Pride scored again, and Violar shot out of her chair to yell out her approval.

Then things took a turn for the worse early in the second period when a fight broke out on the ice, landing one of the Pride players in the penalty box. The Ghosts took advantage of the Power Play to score their first goal of the game.

"No!" Violar cried, clasping her hands near her face as the Ghosts celebrated.

The Pride lost their cool again soon after, and a second fight left them short another player. Once more, three Ghosts attacked the goal and slammed the puck home over the goalie's armpad.

"No, no!" cried Violar, glancing at the scoreboard. It was tied at two apiece, and the second period ended shortly after that.

Violar sighed and sat back, then frowned. "They look like they're going to keep playing."

"There's a third period," Marie explained.

"Look at the difference in demeanor between the benches," Kitty remarked.

Violar frowned. The Pride didn't look very proud at all, some hanging their heads. The Ghosts, on the other hand, looked enthusiastic and full of energy.

"Oh dear," murmured the centaur with a grimace.

And she was right. The Pride never recovered the deficit, giving up two more goals. On a late run, the Pride managed to poke home another goal, but it was too little too late. The final buzzer sounded, and Violar pursed her lips as the two teams lined up to shake hands.

Willie got up with a murderous snarl, grumbling as he and his wife headed for the aisle. "If they'd put Gary out there a whole heck of a lot sooner…"

Violar ignored him. She picked up a pretzel and steadily munched her way through it, somewhat glazed as if she were grazing in centaur-fashion. Marie reached over and patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Can't win 'em all, Vi," she said. "But you gotta win the ones that count. Ah hope ya got plenty'a voice left, 'cause here they come!"

Sure enough, the Flying Tigers filed into the arena and took over the bench the Pride had just vacated. Bobby, Jimmy, and Rosa were among them. Violar gulped down a bite of her pretzel and waved down to them, and the girls beside her bounced up and down and squealed and hollered until Violar was cringing.

"Ow ow ow, ladies, my ears, _please_," she begged, chuckling. "I'm a centaur, remember. Take it easy."

The players spilled onto the ice to begin their warm-ups, and Violar's stomach knotted up again – worse than before. She found her teeth embedded in her lower lip as she studied the Monarchs intently – as was her habit. As a centaur, she always tried to gauge her opponent's strengths and weaknesses, but she had two strikes against her: For one, hockey was an unfamiliar game.

For two, Violar didn't even know what the strengths and weaknesses of the Flying Tigers were.

With a gulp, she brought her eyes back to the friendly side of the ice, watching Bobby, Jimmy, and Rosa in particular. When Bobby glanced up at her, she tried to smile – for his sake.

Aside to the girls, she whispered, "Is it against the rules to use your mutation in the middle of a hockey game?"

They both laughed. "Not sure how it would help there, Violar," said Kitty. "But that's good, thinking on your feet like that. Was your faith shaken when your last team lost?"

Violar shrugged. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

"Bobby's good out there," chimed in Marie. "Ya needn't worry ya lil' head over him too much. An' Ah did hear some'a the old stories about him an' Jimmy in their old hockey days, so Ah'm kinda lookin' forward to this."

Violar swallowed hard and clenched her clammy palms, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. She wasn't sure she was looking forward to this. It was one thing to be a warrior in the midst of a great battle; it was another to be a warrior sidelined and helpless to do anything but watch.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, which was jammed full of nervous butterflies. "By the mane… I don't know if I can do this."

The raspy buzzer echoed through the arena, and a shudder ran down Violar's spine. The game was about to begin.


	2. Not Of This World

­­The hot dog, the French fries, the pretzel, the funnel cake - they all conspired against Violar. The food churned in her stomach as the Flying Tigers and the Monarchs took their positions on the ice, ready to do battle. She gazed at the bench, and spotted the white and orange jersey emblazoned with the number 36. Bobby's number.

Violar's hands tightened on folds of her trench coat as she locked her gaze on Bobby. The X-Men's Iceman, normally confident to the point of being cocky, looked entirely out of his element – despite the fact that his mutant power - ice - whispered beneath his skating blades. He really was nervous, Violar noted uneasily, and she wished she were down there with him – if nothing else than for moral support.

The centaur wasn't terribly fond of the ice. And she'd never been ice-skating, let alone in the middle of a hockey game.

Violar swallowed hard, her eyes drifting to the rest of the Flying Tigers team. Jimmy O'Bannon didn't look nearly as jittery. He carried himself with a natural dignity and spoke to his teammates with the ease and command of a leader.

An elbow jabbed into Violar's ribs. "Aha! Ah knew it," declared Marie triumphantly, her Southern-accented voice thick with amusement. "Ah caught ya starin' at Jimmy!"

"Will you stop?" Violar shot her a glare and made a face. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Kitty glanced worriedly at Violar. "I sure hope you're kidding. That was too good a funnel cake to be…"

"Please don't talk about food," Violar pleaded grimly. Kitty's eyebrows jumped in surprise, and Violar looked a little apologetic. "Not… not right now. Maybe after this is over."

Five players from each team glided to the center of the arena, heavily padded and holding their hockey sticks, while the other players took their places on the team benches – awaiting their turn. Bobby looked over his shoulder once, searching the stands for the three familiar faces, and Violar instantly leaned forward and waved to him. Bobby managed a smile that more closely resembled a grimace, then faced the ice.

"Oh Aslan, he looks like I feel," murmured Violar, leaning back in her seat.

The black and white striped official in the middle of the ice dropped the puck. The Flying Tiger and the Monarch in the center circle slapped their sticks together viciously, fighting to possess the puck. The Monarch came away with it, a cheer swept through half the crowd, and the game was on.

Violar barely paid attention to the action on the ice. All her attention was focused on Bobby. Tension gripped her. She had seen in the first game how often hockey teams changed their five-man shifts. She doubted it would be long before Bobby got his turn on the ice.

And sitting next to Bobby was number 40 – Jimmy O'Bannon. On Bobby's other side, a more slender number 45 sat gripping her stick and intently watching the game: Rosa Infante.

Gentle gloved hands settled onto Violar's shoulders, and she instinctively jumped. "Easy, tigah," soothed Marie, who was reaching over awkwardly to massage the anxiety from Violar's rock-hard shoulders and neck. "It's a game. It's supposed to be _fun_."

"I don't think Bobby's having very much fun," muttered the centaur, though she allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes while Marie's strong hands and fingers forced the knots from Violar's muscles. "He looks so… so… I've never seen him this way before. I desperately want him to do well, for his own sake. And he's putting too much pressure on himself. I know how that feels… to be so responsible…"

Behind closed eyes, Violar's mist-shrouded memories took shape and form: Battles she'd fought alongside her fellow Narnians. Holding the twin swords from her parents, standing on one side of a grassy sward and preparing to charge into a massive force from Ettinsmoor, she'd been just as anxious as Bobby – if not more so. What if she fell? What if she couldn't protect the creatures to her right and her left? What if she made a mistake that would cost Narnia the battle – and possibly more?

"That's the great thing about hockey," Kitty chimed in. "This is a team sport. The whole world isn't resting solely on Bobby's shoulders, and there they go!"

Violar's eyes blinked open, but before she could shoot Kitty a puzzled look for her comment, she saw a fresh set of five players hop over the wall and take the ice. Bobby was among them.

So were Jimmy and Rosa.

Violar gulped and leaned forward, breaking Marie's hold on her shoulders. She kept a close eye on Bobby as he shadowed one of the red and gold-clad Monarchs from one side of the rink to the other, and she clasped her hands so hard she feared she might break bones.

To her surprise, she found her eyes darting over to Rosa. Another emotion mixed with her nervousness: Intrigue. She wanted to see how this Rosa Infante would fare in this brutal game, especially since, Violar just realized, she was the only girl on either team.

Violar frowned at this. One of the things she'd learned about this world was that every sport seemed to strictly segregate males and females – except for backyard games at places like Xavier's. Violar made a mental note to ask Bobby about it later, since it was probably safer than bringing up a potentially touchy subject with Rosa herself. Everything in the girl's demeanor as she tore across the ice suggested a volatile temperament, aside from her warrior's demeanor. Violar wanted to observe her for awhile and find out more about her before she risked tangling with Rosa Infante.

Kitty's and Marie's high-pitched screaming broke Violar out of her reverie. The breath caught in her throat when she saw Bobby racing after a Monarch player. She clasped her hands together almost in the same manner Nightcrawler did when he prayed, and the flash of recognition at the unconscious gesture sent a brief flash of warmth and calm along her overwrought nerves. Bobby reached out with his stick, trying to poke the puck away the Monarch player.

But the Monarch proved a bit faster. He pulled away from Bobby, gave the puck a sharp slap . . .

And skidded it past the goaltender's outstretched leg.

A loud, wailing horn filled the arena. The red light behind the goal lit up. The scoreboard read MONARCHS 1, FLYING TIGERS 0.

Violar's hands flew to her face as Marie and Kitty cried out in dismay on either side of her. Monarchs gathered in an energetic huddle of celebration while the Tigers skated off in aimless directions. Bobby's shoulders were slumped, and he nearly dragged his stick as he headed for the bench.

"Oh come on, it ain't over!" hollered Marie, echoing Violar's desperate thoughts. "Ya can't be like that. Y'all have another chance. Ya jest take that puck right back to 'em and score one for us!"

Adrenaline coursed hot through Violar's veins, though the knots in her stomach were ice cold. She peered at Bobby over the fortress of her fingertips, and she saw Jimmy skate up to him and slap him encouragingly on the shoulder. Bobby nodded halfheartedly as Jimmy slid past him, then offered the same nod to Rosa, who offered the same supportive pat on the other shoulder a few seconds later.

That sent Violar to her feet. "Get right back in it," she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Get right back in it, Bobby. Keep your focus!"

Bobby continued skating around as the teams prepared to resume play. It was impossible to tell whether he'd heard the centaur or not.

Kitty tugged at Violar's cream trench coat. "Sit down, I can't see!"

Violar forced her knees to buckle and perched on the very edge of her collapsible chair, pale-faced and staring at the continuing action below.

One minute and thirty seconds later, the Monarchs poked the puck away from a Tiger and whizzed down to the Tiger-guarded goal. There was a quick shot, and the puck disappeared beneath the goalie's armpad. Violar let out a cry as the buzzer flooded the arena, and Kitty and Marie were beside themselves, shouting out encouragement and advice for the next round.

"You've got to score!" yelled Kitty. "Let's go, Tigers!"

It was impossible for Violar's keen ears to miss the frustrated howls that went up from the Flying Tigers parents around her.

"Where did the coach find these replacements?" bemoaned one.

"I bet some of those kids haven't picked up a stick in years," grumbled a dark-haired woman with thick glasses sitting in the row below Violar.

"We shouldn't have bothered coming to this tournament," snarled the portly man in a black ski cap sitting next to the complaining woman. "With these replacement players out there we won't win a damn game. For cryin' out loud, one of them's a girl. How desperate was Mahay to put her out there?"

Marie's eyes flashed. "What's that supposed to mean?" she hissed aside to Violar.

The knots in the centaur's stomach cramped up painfully, and she shook her head, scowling down at the arena. "Just ignore them," she replied softly, though their comments were beginning to set her blood boiling. "They'll pipe down as soon as the Tigers put some points up."

Another minute passed on the game clock, and the Monarchs scored a third goal. Marie and Kitty wailed in frustration. Violar buried her face in her hands, trying in vain to shut out the growing chorus of furious complaints from angry parents. Her heart began to crumble. Bobby looked so dejected that the centaur wanted to cry for him.

A loud hammering caused her to lift her head. She saw Jimmy O'Bannon banging a hand on the boards in front of the Flying Tiger bench.

"C'mon, boys!" He stared at his teammates on the bench, many of whom were slumped over and disheartened. "We're not out of this! We have two more periods after this one. Get pumped up!"

Violar caught her breath at the fire in his eyes, which she could see even over so great a distance. "That's the spirit," she quietly encouraged him.

Violar noticed Rosa standing next to him, nodding in agreement, a determined look on her face. The warrior heart inside the centaur surged to life, and she returned her hands to Kurt Wagner's fervent praying position.

"Aslan, please let this work," she whispered under her breath.

Bobby, at least, was buying into Jimmy's fierce encouragement. A spark of hope ignited in the centaur's gray eyes.

"Look at that guy." The ski cap man in the row below pointed to Jimmy. "Showoff."

"He probably thinks he can stay on the roster after this tournament," said his female companion. "He'd better not take Todd's spot. If that happens, I'll give that idiot coach a piece of my mind."

Violar scowled and gritted her teeth, refusing to look at them. If she had, her glare would have been potent enough to melt the ice in the hockey rink. She clamped down on her thoughts and focused resolutely on the game.

Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa came out on the ice for another shift. One of the Monarch players ricocheted the puck along the curvature of the boards. Rosa darted to the other side, trying to get an angle on it. Violar smiled when Rosa took possession of the puck and looked for a Flying Tiger to pass it to.

Suddenly a big Monarch came out of nowhere and slammed into her, crushing her against the boards with a sickening _crunch!_

Violar let out a shriek. So did Kitty and Marie. Violar shot to her feet, her heart pounding against her chest. She was horrified to think of the slender girl broadsided that way, for even Violar knew what it felt like to be rammed in the side by a charging minotaur.

"Check it out." Kitty pointed.

Violar followed Kitty's outstretched finger. Dread turned into surprise, then admiration.

Rosa miraculously remained on her feet. She skated back toward the action, slowly at first. Within seconds she picked up speed and looked like she'd completely forgotten about that crushing blow.

"Girl power!" Marie pumped a fist in the air. "Yeah!"

A slow grin of pure admiration crossed the centaur's features. "She's tough," she murmured to her companions. "I'm glad she's on our side."

Kitty giggled, and some of the tension went out of the air.

After another impressive – but scoreless – round of play, Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa left the ice less than a minute later. Thankfully, their excellent defense kept the Monarchs from scoring.

With three minutes left in the period, the Monarchs got called for tripping. The three girls cheered as Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa came back onto the ice to begin the Flying Tiger power play.

"You gotta be kidding," said a woman with long black hair and too much make-up sitting in the row behind Violar. "He's using those replacement kids in the first power play unit? What the hell have they done to deserve that?"

Violar caught her breath sharply, and her eyes burned. Her patience with the hockey parents was beginning to wear thin. Willing herself to stay calm, the centaur directed her fierce gaze at the game.

"Come on, you three," she murmured, every nerve in her body straining on behalf of Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa.

Violar's heart swooped when she saw Rosa pass to Jimmy, who took a quick shot on net.

And missed.

Bobby quickly got hold of the puck.

"Go, Bobby!" Violar yelled at the top of her lungs. Kitty and Marie screamed right along with her.

Bobby passed the puck to another Flying Tiger, who passed it to Jimmy on the other side of the rink. He glided down the ice, searching for an opening between two defenders, and passed it back to Bobby. Bobby drew back his stick and shot.

Violar started to rise from her seat, ready to explode. They were going to score!

But the heavily padded teenager in net kicked the puck away – right at a Monarch player. Violar wailed in disappointment, then tensed as the Monarch controlled the puck, blew past two Flying Tigers, and sped down the ice with determination. Willing the Tigers to get back on defense, Violar clenched her teeth, then clenched Kitty's arm.

"Hey, take it easy, Vi. Your crushing my arm."

Violar instantly let go. "Sorry, Kit-"

The Monarch player scored before Violar could finish her sentence. She slumped back in her seat and buried her head in her arms, moaning.

"No, no, no, no, no…"

At the end of the first period, it was Monarchs 4, Flying Tigers 0. The deficit ripped at Violar's insides. She knew how hard it was to score in a hockey game, and climbing out of that kind of hole would take a miracle.

The centaur believed in miracles – because she'd witnessed several in her lifetime. But in this hockey tournament? She hardly dared hope. Watching Bobby suffer through the unfortunate game was tearing her apart, and everything inside of her rebelled at being a helpless bystander in the stands.

She wouldn't leave the arena, but it was agony to watch.

"I can't believe Number Thirty-Six took that shot." A tall, bearded man in the next row shook his head, and his voice grated on Violar's nerves. "There's no way he could have gotten it past the goalie. And looked what happened. Breakaway goal. What the hell was that kid thinking?"

A muscle tightened alongside Violar's jaw. "He was thinking of scoring," she growled aside to Marie, who was also livid. The mutant girl just shook her head. On Violar's other side, Kitty hunched miserably in her seat, sucking moodily on her soda straw. Her naturally bright eyes were dull and glazed.

Violar spent the break between periods rubbing her forehead and trying to shut out the derisive voices around her. The parents were upset – and she couldn't blame them for that. But did they have to rip apart the players? Why did they cling to the belief that their children were born heroes and would be the ones to save the game?

Violar perked up when the players poured onto the ice. The Monarchs looked energetic, for being so far ahead put them in a good mood. The Flying Tigers' brave body language caused Violar's heart to swell with pride.

When the second period started, Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa were on the ice, much to the vocal chagrin of many of the parents around her. Violar gripped the armrests of her seat, struggling to concentrate on the action below.

Jimmy was at center ice for the face-off, and after a fierce round of slapping sticks with his opponent, he won possession of the puck. He led the Flying Tigers down the ice, passing it to Rosa. Violar watched with hope gleaming in her eyes, sliding to the very edge of her seat.

Rosa appeared as though she were about to shoot, but she held off at the last second and skated behind the goal, followed by two Monarchs. Both jostled Rosa. But the girl ignored it and passed the puck to Jimmy. He held it for a few seconds, then zipped it past a Monarch standing in front of the goal . . .

And right to Bobby. He took the shot . . . and scored!

A roar exploded from Violar's throat. "YES!" she burst out, leaping from her seat and whirling on her companions in jubilation. The Flying Tigers crowded Bobby, slapping helmets and pads until Violar, peering over Kitty's shoulder in the midst of a crushing hug, prayed to Aslan that he'd survive his exuberant companions.

The goal breathed new life into the Flying Tigers, and the trio wasn't done there. On their next shift, Rosa made a beeline toward a Monarchs player bringing the puck down the ice . . . and crashed into him. The boy, who had to have been five inches taller than Rosa, went sprawling on the ice.

Kitty and Marie jumped up and down, screaming with glee. Chuckling to herself, Violar offered congratulatory fives to both girls, though not as enthusiastically. The rougher aspects of hockey still took some getting used to, and the game continued. Her gaze fixed on Rosa Infante as the girl controlled the puck and passed it to Bobby.

The jubilation was short-lived. The Monarchs scored two more goals before the second period ended, and Violar's stomach roiled every time she glanced at the scoreboard. Monarchs 6, Flying Tigers 1. She sat down during the break after the second period, rubbing at her temples and nursing an increasingly sick stomach.

"Hey, who wants another funnel cake?" Kitty piped up gleefully, her voice chock full of mischief.

"Not funny right now," groaned the centaur in distress. Despite the cold of the arena, Violar's palms were clammy and perspiration dotted her hairline. She had to force herself to breathe normally.

The players returned to the ice, and Violar noted with a sinking heart how dejected the Flying Tigers looked. No wonder: Their hole had gotten worse, and only one period remained in the game. Violar bit her lip, her expression full of worry.

Two minutes into the third period, Violar's favorite trio struck again. The puck deflected off a Monarchs player's stick, and Bobby was there to get it. He streaked down ice, and passed it to Rosa on his left. She made a cross-ice pass to Jimmy. He faked a shot and passed it to Rosa. She skated toward the net, shot . . . and scored!

"YES!" A wild shout burst from Violar's throat as she and the two mutant girls sprang out of their seats, hugging one another. Kitty and Marie squealed, but Violar had one eye on the scoreboard – and the ticking clock. The determined scowl gripped her features.

"Girls rule!" Kitty yelled.

Marie echoed her sentiment, and Violar had to smile. Within moments, Kitty and Marie started a sing-song chant of, "Girls rule, girls rule, girls rule!"

Violar blushed deeply. The whole idea of a battle between the genders was relatively new to the Narnian, but at that moment, it struck her as hilarious. A little sheepishly, she joined in on the chant until all three girls fell back into their seats, dissolving into giggles. Even with Bobby's team losing badly, Violar was startled to discover that she was having so much fun – entirely because of her companions. She shot them each a warm look.

"You girls are too much," she told them softly. And for just one moment, the game ceased to matter, and a welcome relief enveloped the centaur.

"Who do those kids think they are?"

The harsh voice ended Violar's laughter. She looked at the woman with thick glasses in the next row. "They're trying to show up our kids. You think the coach promised them a spot on the team if they played well?"

Violar's jaw dropped at the venom in the woman's tone.

The man in the ski cap turned to her. "Let him try. I'll be damned if my kid's gonna lose his spot on the roster to those three showoffs."

Violar's forehead crinkled, and she exchanged incredulous glances with her companions.

"Where did they come from anyway?" the woman demanded to know.

"I heard they used to play for Mahay when he coached youth hockey. Aw jeez, that means they got an "in" to stay on the team, at the expense of kids who've been here since the beginning of the season. That Number Forty acts like he's God's gift to hockey. And Thirty-Six? He probably got lucky on that one goal. I mean, he skates like he's wearing cement shoes, and when he took that one shot, there wasn't an inch of space between the net and the goalie. That kid's not too bright, is he?"

That sent Violar to her feet. "He is an incredibly bright young man, and I'll thank you to keep your insults to yourself," she snapped at the couple, straightening to her full height.

Both craned around to glare at her. "What's it to you? Is he your boyfriend?" the fellow scoffed.

Violar's cheeks flushed and her eyes flamed. "No, he isn't. But if I spoke with such careless, unwarranted rage toward _your_ son, you wouldn't appreciate it, would you?"

The man slowly rose from his seat, narrowing his eyes at the centaur. "You'd better keep your trap shut, girl."

Violar pursed her lips tightly at his menacing demeanor, ignoring Kitty's persistent tug at the back of her trench coat. "I will not allow you to continue tearing apart my friend's honor and reputation, entirely because you are afraid of your son's standing with the team. Let your son stand on his own merit! Your words make it clear that you would rather lose this game than see people other than your son succeed and shine, and-"

The man snarled. "I told you to shut up!"

"It's a team sport!" Violar shot back, leaning toward him with a dark scowl. "If you can't handle the success of a team when your son isn't at the forefront, then pull him out and put him a sport like… like…" She wracked her red-clouded brain madly for American sports. "Boxing!"

"That's it!" The man lunged toward her, and only the woman's grip on his arm stopped him. Violar's gray eyes were in flames, and she was just as ready to meet him – except that both Kitty and Marie were holding tightly to the back of her trench coat.

"Violar!" cried Kitty in alarm.

Breathing fiercely, Violar glared the man down. "I want this team to win, sir. I don't care who scores the goals."

"You don't understand team politics!" he snarled back.

Violar huffed. "I don't _care_ about team politics!"

"You wouldn't, you idiot girl, because you haven't got a son on that team and a college scholarship on the line! My son's got a real shot at this, if that jerk of a coach would give him half a chance. And if you think I'm going to let some snot-nosed kids from God knows where waltz in here and take that away-"

"How dare you insult my friends," Violar interrupted, anger burning through her veins.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening me?"

Violar snapped her jaw shut and lifted her chin. She wasn't threatening him, despite how furious she was. But she didn't answer him.

"Fine." The man shook his arm free of the woman's grasp. "I'll just go have a little talk with security." He made a move toward the aisle.

Violar's eyes flashed. "Don't bother! I'm leaving." She pulled away from Kitty and Marie and sidestepped to the aisle, then stalked furiously down the stairs, headed straight for the Flying Tigers' bench. To her surprise – and chagrin – she found Bobby, Jimmy, and Rosa, along with a handful of their teammates, staring at her.

Heat burned in Violar's cheeks, staining them with color. Shame and anger grappled for domination inside of her, and she lowered her dark, fiery eyes from Bobby's gaze. Finding a few unoccupied chairs behind their bench, Violar deliberately took her time in taking her seat, smoothing wrinkles – real and imaginary – from her trench coat and her ruffled dignity.

"Do we need to call the fire department, or will a fire extinguisher do?" teased Bobby.

Violar ventured a glance at the young mutant and found him smiling. She offered a wry smile in return, still upset by her loss of temper.

"A couple of goals would be most effective, actually," she answered quietly, shifting her gaze to include Jimmy and Rosa. She smiled apologetically at them, then lowered her eyes. They didn't know her, and Violar knew well the power of first impressions.

She dared a glance at the two. Her chest seized for a moment in surprise. Both Jimmy and Rosa absolutely beamed at her, nodding their approval. She also caught something in Jimmy's gaze. Admiration, it appeared. And something else. Perhaps, a hint of attraction?

Violar's expression hardened slightly. Maybe she was reading too much into Jimmy's expression: New York had caused her to be hypersensitive, and she was well aware of that. But then again, maybe she was right. That bothered her – and slightly irritated her. Jimmy didn't know her at all.

At any rate, Jimmy and Rosa didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed by her outburst. They actually appeared delighted by it. Violar, though, could not say the same. She could take no delight in losing one of the most renowned traits of a centaur.

Self-control.

"More goals coming right up." Bobby flashed her a surprisingly cocky grin, disrupting her thoughts regarding Jimmy. With that, he hopped over the wall, tearing across the ice to take over for the Flying Tigers. Violar caught her breath, startled at Bobby's sudden shift in demeanor, and her gaze followed Jimmy and Rosa as they skated after him.

A movement near her shoulder caused Violar to turn, and she looked sheepishly into the concerned faces of Kitty and Marie. They were carrying coats and food, clearly relocating to be with the centaur.

"I'm really sorry I lost my temper," Violar apologized.

"You beat me to it," responded Kitty instantly.

"Ah jes' wanted to warm up mah right hook first," Marie chimed in. "The left was half done. Ah jes' can't get over some'a them things he said about Bobby!"

Violar suddenly laughed, and the knots in her chest eased. She glanced at each of her companions in turn as they settled into the seats on either side of her, and her heart prickled with warm emotion. The inhabitants of Xavier's Institute were too great a blessing for a centaur such as she.

Violar's mood further improved a minute later when Bobby zipped a pass to Jimmy near center ice. He took about three or four strides, reared back and fired the puck. The little black disc flashed through the air in a blur, past the Monarchs' goalie and into the net.

Violar shot out of her seat, jumping and clapping and shouting. Kitty and Marie did the same before wrapping her up in a group hug. Violar managed to catch a glimpse of Jimmy before he was mobbed by Bobby, Rosa and the two other Flying Tigers players.

"We have a long way to go," declared Violar breathlessly as she took her seat once more, "and a short time to get there. But maybe… just maybe…"

She clasped her hands together, her emotions rising and falling with the action on the ice. She kept glancing at the clock. Five minutes to go, and they were down by four goals.

Four minutes.

Three minutes.

Two. One.

Violar whimpered and squeezed her hands tightly together as the seconds ticked off the clock, but the Monarchs' game strategies kept getting the upper hand. All the centaur's pleading couldn't hold back the clock, and suddenly an ominous buzzer flooded the arena.

A sinking finality weighed down on Violar. It was over. The Monarchs had won, 7-3.

Violar's stomach collapsed as she watched the Flying Tigers skate to the bench. Her eyes sought out Bobby. She caught her breath when she saw him frown and shake his head.

"Get 'em next time, Bobby!" Marie hollered.

Violar was about to offer her own consolation when she heard Jimmy say from the ice, "The lady's right, boys." He nodded in Marie's direction. "This is one just one game. We got plenty more to go."

That seemed to cheer up Bobby and a few other players some. Others simply ignored Jimmy's words of encouragement.

Violar was surprised. She hadn't known that a single loss in the tournament wasn't the end of the world, and a little of her melancholy lifted. But losing was not something the centaur took well, since losing – in her world – often meant the difference between life or death when her whole country's future was on the line.

Violar lowered her head, allowing the emotions to wash over her. Then she looked up again and studied Jimmy O'Bannon. Despite the loss and how much effort he'd personally invested in the attempt to win, Jimmy carried himself with a brave dignity. He had an air of leadership about him that was undeniable. Violar's gaze drifted to his companion, Rosa Infante, and she suddenly narrowed her eyes. There was more to them than they let on.

She wondered how much Bobby knew. She'd have to ask him later.

Her gaze drifted back to Jimmy, and she caught him staring at her with a hint of admiration in his eyes. Violar's gaze faltered first, and she turned to help Kitty and Marie collect their unfinished food items and trash.

Violar's Danger Sense prickled, and she shot a glare at Marie.

"Don't you dare," she snapped just as the other girl said, "Ah knew there was somethin' goin' on!"

Kitty looked at them, startled. Then she looked at Violar, puzzled. "How did you–?"

"Never mind! Just… if we could think pure thoughts for awhile, I'd be much happier, alright?"

Marie and Kitty exchanged glances, shrugged, and filed out of the arena with Violar right behind them. Violar looked over her shoulder at the ice in time to see the last of the Flying Tigers disappearing into the locker room. She sighed deeply.

"Some help those replacement players were," someone grumbled. "Even with those three showoffs, we still lost."

Violar grimaced and buried her face in the half-filled popcorn bucket, distracting herself with the intoxicating aroma of melted butter and salted popcorn kernels. Her cheeks burned, and she wished her hearing weren't so keen. The loss of the game had left a bitter taste in her mouth all by itself; if the Flying Tigers had won, at least Violar wouldn't have felt so powerless against their ire.

A soft, feminine growl drew Violar's attention to Kitty. "The next time I hear someone badmouth Bobby, or those other two players for that matter, I won't be responsible for what happens."

Violar's groan echoed in the popcorn bucket. "Oh, don't say that, please. It was just a game. They're the ones making a big deal out of it, but it's all just talk – just talk. They're as powerless as we are."

"Well said," returned Marie over her shoulder, "but that don't stop me from wantin' to slip off a glove and offer someone an innocent lil' handshake. Ah shoulda argued along with Vi when Ah had the chance."

Violar moaned as they reached the top of the stairs. "It wouldn't have made you feel any better," she replied quietly. "Trust me. I know."

The mutant girls sent concerned looks at the centaur, then frowned at each other as they emerged into the crowded foyer. Violar felt the mixture of emotions from the people milling about, and it was easy to tell which were depressed Flying Tigers fans and which were part of the triumphant Monarchs group. Marie and Kitty suddenly stopped and faced Violar.

"Why don't'cha get yerself somethin' to drink while Kitty and Ah visit the restroom," said Marie gently. "Unless ya want to come with us?"

The idea of being alone for a moment was suddenly appealing. "No, no, go ahead. I'm thirsty anyway, and I'll wait for you."

The girls left, and Violar made her way to the concessions stand, scanning the overhead menu. Finally she ordered a pink lemonade and wandered off, sucking moodily at the straw. The tangy liquid was not enough of a distraction to keep her mind from going over the events of the past few hours, which had left her exhausted – physically and emotionally.

But what bothered her the most was her own momentary loss of self-control. What she'd said to Marie on the way out of the arena rang true: Words were only words. She shouldn't have said anything to those parents. And she hadn't, for a long time – until their comments became too much to bear.

Had she gotten more sensitive during her time in New York?

Her mind continued to whirl as she walked back toward the restroom, leaning against a cold stone partition with a little sigh. That's when she heard the voices coming from behind the wall.

"You shoulda heard that coach, Rosa. He was praising my leadership, how I was an unselfish player, how I made good decisions on the ice."

Violar stopped sipping her lemonade when she recognized the voice of Jimmy O'Bannon. Her Danger Sense tingled. She was about to round the little manmade outcropping separating them, but something prickling in the back of her mind made her stay where she was. Part of her didn't want to disrupt a conversation that was meant to be private, but another part of her was flooded with curiosity. Centaurs generally didn't condone eavesdropping, but Violar still wondered: Who were these people?

"That's great, Jimmy," Rosa was saying. "You should feel good he thinks that highly of you."

"Yeah."

Jimmy's tone surprised Violar. He did not sound very enthusiastic.

"What's wrong?" asked Rosa.

Several seconds of silence passed before Jimmy spoke. "This coach was from Maine."

"I know. You already mentioned that, and said it was a big hockey school in this world."

Violar blinked in surprise. What did Rosa mean by "this world?"

Jimmy groaned. "Aw, man. This is gonna sound so stupid."

"When has that ever stopped you from saying anything before?"

A flicker of anger rose in Violar. She had assumed Rosa was Jimmy's friend. Why would she say something so hurtful?

Jimmy snorted, though Violar noted a hint of laughter in that snort. Perhaps Rosa had made the comment in jest. Violar suddenly wished she could see Rosa's face: Violar recalled more than a few experiences in the X-Mansion where students greeted one another with the most vile of insults, all done with a smile. More often than not, it was the males who engaged in this strange behavior.

Clearly Rosa wasn't an ordinary girl.

Before the centaur could contemplate further, Jimmy spoke. "You know how many people would love to do the stuff we do? A flick of the wrist, a couple words of Latin, and bam! But even after doing this for over six years, I always seem to come back to hockey. I've been playing this game since I was, like, five years old. And like every other kid who ever laced up his skates and grabbed a stick, I always wondered if I had what it takes to play in the NHL, to be out on the ice with the best players in the world. And today, I feel like I found out being a pro hockey player isn't a pipe dream for me. I mean, damn, Rosa, the University of Maine. The Black Bears. Two-time National Champions. Paul Kariya played there, for God's sake."

Violar furrowed her brow. She assumed, by the reverent tone in Jimmy's voice, this Paul _Kuh-ree-ah_ was a hockey player of some note.

"Well," Rosa began. "You know there's no law saying you can't go to that school. Not anymore, anyway."

"Ha! You kiddin' me? With everything going on in our world, how can I even think about running off to play college hockey?"

There it was again – another mention of a second world. Violar listened intently.

"It can't last forever. And when it's over, maybe you should consider it. I'd just really hate to see you not pursue your dream. Besides, if I didn't already know what I wanted to do after graduation, I might consider doing it, too."

"Huh?"

"One of the coaches in the stands talked to me, too. Oh, what school did he say he was from? Wait, I got his card . . . here! St. Lawrence University in New York. He said they have a women's hockey team there. He also told me they don't do much hitting in women's hockey." Rosa snorted in disgust. "Where's the fun in that?"

Violar was shocked. Jimmy let out a hearty laugh.

"C'mon." Rosa said. "Let's get back to the others."

Violar quit breathing and instantly pressed herself against the wall as Jimmy and Rosa emerged from the alcove and walked away, their backs toward her. She stared at the departing hockey players so hard she was afraid that they would feel her eyes boring into them, and she began to inch her way along the wall, intending to duck into the alcove Jimmy and Rosa had just vacated.

"What are you doing?"

Violar jumped, her startled silvery eyes falling on Kitty and Marie. A relieved gasp hissed from the centaur's lungs, and she slumped against the wall.

"Oh, uh," she stammered.

"You don't look so good." Kitty's hand pressed against Violar's forehead. "You're really pale. Are you sick?"

Violar gulped and managed a wry smile. "Aren't we all? That was a terrible game."

Marie chuckled, but Kitty didn't look convinced. Violar took another long pull of her lemonade, trying to appear casual as the tension drained out of her body.

"I'm tired," Violar declared suddenly. "Let's collect Bobby and get out of here."

"Sounds like a plan," seconded Marie. The three girls walked off together while thoughts raged in the silence of Violar's mind. One thing was clear from the conversation she'd just overheard: Jimmy O'Bannon and Rosa Infante were not from this world. Perhaps they weren't human. They were definitely more than they appeared to be.

Whatever the case, Violar intended keep her friends safe. And she intended to find out what Jimmy and Rosa's true purpose in Connecticut was. Because if there was, as Jimmy had said, too much going on in their world for him to consider taking time off to pursue a hockey career, then what were they doing here, playing in a tournament?

Things didn't add up, leaving the centaur very dissatisfied. And concerned. And distracted.

"Violar!"

Kitty's cry saved her from running into a glass window.


	3. Conspiracy Theories

Violar's stomach had finally settled down. The same, however, couldn't be said for her Danger Sense.

She sat at a corner table in a café at the Quinnipiac College bookstore, nibbling on her turkey and Swiss sandwich. All the while, invisible claws scratched at the back of her skull, sometimes descending down her spine and causing her to shudder. Every few seconds her eyes flashed around the café, anticipating some threat to suddenly rush through the door or jump through a window.

No threat appeared.

Yet.

Violar took another small bite of her sandwich and chewed it slowly. Her mind replayed the conversation she'd overheard between Jimmy O'Bannon and Rosa Infante. _"This world." "Our world." _What exactly did they mean by that?

_Maybe I'm overreacting. Jimmy did seem like a nice young man._

So why wouldn't her Danger Sense subside? Something had to be wrong. But what?

She sighed softly and looked up from her sandwich, scanning her three mutant friends sitting around the table. Bobby was talking about the recently completed hockey game, much more relaxed than he had been a couple hours ago. She felt relieved he'd been able to put the loss behind him so quickly. Stabs of guilt pricked at her soul: She'd been so wrapped up in her own worries that she'd barely heard a word Bobby or Kitty or Marie had said.

Violar's intense stare fixed on Bobby. Of their group, only Bobby had known Jimmy and Rosa previous to this tournament in Quinnipiac. What she wouldn't have given for a look into Bobby's memories, to see the way Jimmy and Rosa were before and to observe them over a longer period of time – and to compare them with the present versions of themselves. Everyone showed their true colors sooner or later; was there something about them that Bobby had missed? Something he might have caught if he'd been looking for it?

Was Bobby in any danger?

Violar frowned. It was an awful thought, but it needed to be taken into consideration. The Flying Tigers had one more game at 6pm, and they needed Bobby if they hoped to win. Jimmy O'Bannon was highly competitive, and the game of hockey – and this tournament – seemed very important to him. In that case, Bobby was safe at least until the tournament concluded.

Unless… hockey wasn't important to Jimmy at all. Unless this whole thing was an elaborate charade. But to what end?

"Are you trying to burn holes in my jacket?" asked Bobby around a mouthful of food, grinning at her with bits of hamburger stuck between his teeth. "Or are you wondering how tough I am, and whether or not you can take me down and eat my burger?"

Violar blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "What?"

"If you frown two hundred thousand times, it makes a wrinkle," added Kitty, straight-faced. "That was one serious frown you had going there, Vi."

"A frown _and_ a predatory stare," put in Bobby, still chewing. "Good thing you haven't got Scott's powers."

A brief image of herself with red lasers bursting forth every time she opened her eyes flitted through the centaur's mind, and she gave a wry smile. Then she sat back and studied her own sandwich, which had only a few bites in it. After a moment, her smile faded, and her frown returned full-force.

"Bobby, how well do you know Jimmy O'Bannon?" Violar blurted, ignoring a sudden wry grin from Marie.

Bobby finished swallowing his food before answering. "Well, I knew him pretty well when we played hockey. I mean, we went to different elementary schools at the time. And before today, I hadn't seen him for, oh, six or seven years, I guess. But he was a good guy. We got along great."

Violar's stomach quivered. How should she phrase this? "There wasn't anything . . . odd about him, was there?"

Bobby's brow furrowed. "Odd? Like, odd how?"

Violar's gaze fell to the wooden table. "Different, maybe. Something out of place." Her fingers squeezed the remains of her sandwich. "Something… indefinable."

"Vi, what's wrong?" Bobby asked, looking closely at her. "Why the interest in Jimmy?"

"Ah'll tell ya why." Violar's head snapped up when Marie's accented voice interrupted. The mutant girl glowed with wicked delight as she continued. "Our lil' centaur here is smitten with a certain hockey playin' friend'a yours."

Violar closed her eyes and groaned. "Marie, must you keep going on about this?"

"Yes, Ah must. At least 'til ya admit ya've got a thing for Jimmy."

"I do not have a thing for Jimmy."

Marie gave her a curious look. "Well now Ah have to ask why. Ah mean, he's—"

"There's something not right about him." The words flew out Violar's mouth, but she couldn't help it. Something was wrong. Her Danger Sense was filling with the intense instincts that activated her claustrophobia. Marie's continuous harping on this supposed juvenile crush wasn't helping.

Marie leaned back in surprise. "What are ya talkin' 'bout? He looks all right to me."

Violar pursed her lips firmly, looking from one mutant to the other, pondering what to say and what she should keep to herself. Kitty, Marie, and Bobby hadn't seen or noticed anything unusual. Kitty thought she was crazy, Marie thought she was smitten, and Bobby's eyebrows were curved into a slight frown – as if he were irritated by her suspicions about his old friend.

Violar lowered her gaze to the remains of her sandwich and swallowed the bitter knot in her throat. "I suppose I am a little on edge," she admitted.

Kitty reached over and patted her hand with gentle sympathy. "I'm sorry, Vi. I know you've had a lot to deal with, after what happened with St. John. I'm glad we at least got to bring you with us so you could run away from the mansion for a little while."

Violar dropped her sandwich and abruptly stood up. "I'm not running," she countered, her calm voice trembling slightly. The three mutants stared at her, and Violar looked away, blinking hard at a painful surge of emotion that she would rather have denied right out of existence. Drawing a shaky breath, Violar forced her voice to even out. "I'm sorry. Shall we take a walk on the grounds before the next game? We have a few hours, and… I don't know about you three, but this centaur needs some fresh air."

It took a moment for the offer to sink in. Then Kitty was the first to move, and Marie joined her in gathering up the trash from their lunch. They dumped the crumpled wrappers and wadded napkins into a garbage can and exited the bookstore.

The sharp bite of Connecticut winter was a welcome shock, and Violar breathed in the cold air. They descended the stone steps, passing groups of bundled college students. Violar's keen ears picked up smatterings of conversations here and there.

"I think Professor Donahue hates me. No, really – don't laugh. He's always glowering at me with those bushy gray eyebrows of his, and this is the fourth time he's marked down my essay for no good reason at all. Look at his notes…"

"I love Becky, but mom nitpicks everything about her. I'm sick of it. I mean, I don't care about her fashion sense or why her favorite color is orange. Who cares? That has nothing to do with…"

"—And hockey. A cup of hot chocolate on a cold afternoon. A steaming bowl of clam chowder on a rocky gray and blue seashore. There's just nothing quite like New England in the winter."

Violar smiled. She wholeheartedly agreed with that.

The knots in her stomach began to ease in the open air, and her chest loosened up enough for her to breathe easier. Her Danger Sense, at last, was calming down. Violar stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her cream-colored trench coat and shook out her dark hair, letting the chilly breeze run through her mind and blow away the doubts and darkness.

Kitty was probably right, she reflected. Maybe her misgivings had more to do with St. John than she wanted to admit. Violar had been more reclusive and socially wary since things with Pyro had blown up in her face.

Literally.

Another surge of emotion threatened to surface, but Violar slammed the door on it – hard. She wouldn't cry. It wasn't worth crying over. What had happened, had happened. It'd been inevitable. Deep down, she'd seen it coming, but she hadn't wanted to face it.

Not that it mattered anymore. It was over and done.

Violar hated how bitter her thoughts sounded in her own head, but it beat a breakdown. She stiffened her shoulders and heaved a deep sigh.

"Earth to centaur, Earth to centaur. This is Houston. Come in, please."

Violar shot Kitty a sideways glance of annoyed amusement, actually welcoming the distraction. "Ah, centaur here," she copied in the same distorted voice Kitty had used. "In Connecticut."

Kitty grinned. "Roger that. We're having technical difficulties with communications due to interference from stray thought nebulas. Over."

"Houston, leave me alone. I'm mapping these stray thought nebulas."

"In Houston?"

Violar was beginning to chuckle. "No, in Connecticut. You sent me here, remember?"

Marie giggled and shoved Violar off the winding pathway, throwing off the centaur's balance and sending her staggering into the frozen grass. Violar gave Marie a playful warning look as she rejoined the group, and she buried her hands back into her pockets to avoid the temptation to retaliate.

Bobby just shook his head and pretended to ignore the whole thing, but he was smiling. Violar silently marveled at his ability to withstand the insanity that went with having three young girls for companions.

"Keep us informed on your progress, centaur," Kitty responded, her voice growing cracklier with imaginary interference. "Houston out."

"Hey, there you are!"

Violar's head jolted upright, her silvery eyes widening and her stomach turning to stone. Jimmy and Rosa were fast approaching on an intercept course, and she wondered wildly what they could have heard. Violar and Kitty were used to bantering in the safety of Xavier's Institute, and Violar bit her lip. She would have to be much more careful about casually throwing around the word "centaur."

Marie was the first to recover. "No, we're over here," she quipped.

Violar stared hard at the two companions – too hard. Jimmy looked back at her, and she caught a slight warming smile from him. Then his admiring gaze drifted over her, and Violar glanced away, her cheeks burning and a rush of heat in her stomach.

She'd been hanging around Marie for too long.

"Well, mind if we join you, _over here_?" riposted Jimmy. Violar looked up in time to see him smiling at Marie. He really did have a nice smile.

Violar felt Marie melt next to her. "Sure can," she drawled. "We was just tourin' the grounds and admirin' the scenery." Marie's accent was pure and unashamed Southern Belle, and Violar flushed.

"Please join us," said Bobby, a trace of mock desperation in his voice. "I need a buffer from all this girl talk."

Marie and Kitty glared at him. Violar glanced aside, fighting down a surge of laughter_._

"Okay." Jimmy looked around at the four of them. "I guess I can assume you guys haven't been talking about football, pro wrestling and heavy metal for the last few minutes."

"Far from it," Bobby replied.

Violar smiled sympathetically at Bobby, but her mind was racing ahead with the information she'd just gathered. _Heavy metal._ Perhaps Jimmy was an expert swordsman – or a scientist.

But Violar was disappointed when the discussion turned up none of these possibilities. Jimmy and Bobby walked ahead of the girls, their conversation quickly turning to the Flying Tigers' earlier loss to the Monarchs.

"Ah thought y'all played great," Marie said. "Don't ya think so, Vi?" She smiled, motioning with her eyes in Jimmy's direction.

"You were magnificent out there," replied the centaur, dead serious – despite Marie's subtle hints. She looked directly at Jimmy. "It was a travesty that you didn't win. You're a great leader on the ice. When you and Rosa and Bobby were on the ice, play rose to a whole new level. It was spectacular to watch."

The corners of Jimmy's mouth curled. "It doesn't matter if me and Bobby and Rosa play good if the rest of the team doesn't. We need some way to motivate them."

Violar pursed her lips thoughtfully, and her eyes grew distant as a memory of High King Peter addressing an army of animals surfaced. He'd looked magnificent, riding his blazing white unicorn before the assembly. The very fire in his eyes was enough to burn a warrior's blood to life. His words came back to her, and she spoke them out.

"It doesn't matter who you are, or what you think you're capable of. Any day, any moment, the battlefield – I mean, the playing field – can be leveled. The least among you can become a hero when the opportunity arises. Every one of you has what it takes to win this. Every one of you has the potential to be a hero. Watch for your opportunity. When you see it, strike!" Violar's gaze focused in the present once more and locked on Jimmy. "Tell them that, Jimmy. Inspire them with courage."

Jimmy's eyes grew wide. Violar detected admiration mixed with surprise. A lot of surprise. She clenched her jaw, wondering if she had gone too far, sounding more like a warrior than a normal human girl.

Jimmy bobbed his head from side-to-side, as if contemplating her words. "Well damn. That sounds like one hell of a locker room speech. Was your dad a football coach or something?"

Violar ducked her head, but she couldn't help smiling at the frozen ground. "Not exactly. He might have made a good football coach though, now that you mention it."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to use that on the team before our next game."

Violar nodded. "It would be an honor." Once she felt safe enough, she lifted her silvery gaze to Jimmy and smiled. "Credit a good friend of mine. Thank you, Jimmy."

"No, thank you." He beamed at her, though there seemed something more to his smile than mere gratitude. "Still, I don't think a speech alone is gonna do it. We may need to add something more . . . dramatic."

"Like what?" Kitty asked.

"Like a fight."

"Yeah!" Rosa blurted. "Now you're talkin'."

Violar was stunned. They weren't joking – she could tell from the swirl of enthusiastic emotion in her Danger Sense – but it was something she couldn't wrap her mind around. A fight? A legal fight? In most professional sports, fighting was a terrible idea – often earning the aggressors penalties that set the whole team back. Bobby was smiling, so Violar wisely held her tongue.

"You still remember how to fight on the ice, don't ya?" Jimmy gave Bobby a wry grin.

Violar sensed Bobby holding back a laugh; the irony, of course, was completely missed by Jimmy. "What kind of question is that?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Hey, you told me it's been a while since you played competitive hockey. I just want to make sure you can hold your own out there."

Bobby jumped in front of him. "Want me to prove it to you?"

"Bring it on, man." Jimmy extended his arms.

The two boys grabbed one another and sparred lightly without any real intent to hurt one another. Violar was a warrior, and she knew killers when she saw them. Killers did not have such jovial expressions on their faces when they engaged in real battle.

Maybe she'd been wrong, after all. They were just kids. Even Kitty, Marie and Rosa were laughing at the spectacle.

"All right, man, I give." Jimmy held up his hands in surrender. "You can fight."

"Damn straight." Bobby grinned and nodded. "We're gonna kick some serious butt later tonight."

"Oh yeah." The two high-fived each other as they started walking toward the school's student center.

"Males," Violar muttered and shook her head.

"Believe me, I'm used to stuff like this."

Violar swung her head to the left to find that Rosa had sidled up next to her.

"I take it this is typical behavior from Jimmy."

"Jimmy, my cousin Jared, ninety-nine point nine percent of the male population at our school."

Violar chuckled lightly, but her calculating mind was at work. "So what's Jimmy really like?"

Rosa's entire face lit up in delight. "Jimmy? Oh, he's awesome. Yeah, he can talk tough, and back it up, too, but really he's a nice guy, passionate, loyal to a fault, and he's got a wicked sense of humor. Oh! And there's one very important thing you need to know about him."

"What's that?"

Rosa leaned closer to Violar, as though she wanted to share a vital secret. "He's available."

Violar gave Rosa a blank stare. "Available for what?"

Rosa threw back her head with a shout of laughter. "Oh, good one! With a sense of humor likes yours, you and Jimmy would be perfect together." She gave the centaur a sly sidelong grin. "Think about it."

Violar grasped Rosa's meaning at last, and she glanced away with a blush, biting her lip. Why did everyone think she needed to be paired off with someone? Perhaps, because she came from another world, an extraordinary sense of loneliness surrounded her.

She would have to be careful – not only to keep from being paired off, but also to conceal her own secrets.

"Good, you're thinking about it," observed Rosa, her mischievous grin widening.

Violar laughed and shook her head without meeting the other girl's eyes. Rosa was genuinely pleased. As Violar had guessed before, Rosa and Jimmy were simply good friends. Much like herself and Kurt Wagner.

Violar's eyes softened. She missed Kurt dearly. He had been in Bavaria with Tessa Niles for several months on an indeterminate leave of absence. After what he and Tessa had been through during the Church of Humanity trial, they both deserved some time alone together.

Time, Violar speculated, for romance.

"So? Coming around to the idea?" Rosa grinned, giving her a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Violar chuckled and brushed that off.

"So, um, how long have you known Jimmy?" she asked, hoping to head off any more talk about her and Jimmy. She feared that before this day was over, either Rosa or Marie – or both – would start planning her wedding day. If the girls had their way, Jimmy – willing or not – would be standing at the altar, obediently waiting for her.

"Oh, about seven years," Rosa answered. "Ever since we first started going to Sa—er, school together."

Violar raised one eyebrow, and her Danger Sense tingled. Rosa had swerved aside in the same manner Violar often did when she came too close to a mention of Narnia or Aslan. She went in for the kill.

"What school did you say you went to?"

Rosa paused again, biting her lip for a split second. "Um, it's called the Northern Massachusetts Boarding School."

Violar's Danger Sense lit up like a Christmas tree. Every instinct she owned came alive with prickles of unnatural energy, and Violar caught her breath.

Magic. She felt magic. It radiated from Rosa like a powerful electric field, seeking to wind itself around the centaur and bind her in some manner.

But it slipped away. It had no hold on her. A shiver ran down Violar's spine, and she glanced away and stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets to conceal it.

She'd been right all along. Rosa and Jimmy were children, but they were no ordinary children. They weren't all that far from crossing the threshold into adulthood, either. So what were they capable of?

"And… what do you study there?" Violar heard herself ask. It was a rhetorical question meant to fill a conversational space.

Dark suspicion, aimed at Violar, flared to life in the centaur's Danger Sense. She'd just tipped her hand without knowing it.

"The usual stuff, you know," responded Rosa in the same light, trivial tone. "Um…history, science, that sort of thing."

Tension rippled between them. It was a relief when they arrived at the building and stepped out of the cold.

The game room was quite spacious with worn beige carpeting. A few tables were clustered around the center of the room with games Violar recognized from Xavier's, like air hockey, foosball and ping pong. There was also a row of video game machines lining the opposite wall.

"Oh yeah. There we go." Jimmy made a beeline toward a game with the labeling of "Area 51," Bobby following him. The minute Rosa moved slowly towards a foosball table, Violar tracked the boys, feigning more interest in the arcade games than she would have ordinarily – anything to escape Rosa's wary scrutiny. And her company, which was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

"So what's this game?" Violar asked, motioning to a brightly-colored station that had captured the boys' interest.

"Area Fifty-One," Bobby answered as he and Jimmy dropped in quarters and picked up the plastic pistols tethered to the machine. "Basically, you shoot a bunch of aliens before they kill you."

Violar's forehead crinkled. "So where does the name 'Area 51' come in?"

"Oh c'mon, Vi." Marie rolled her eyes. "That's the place they store all the alien spaceships that crash on Earth."

"Allegedly," Kitty chimed in.

"Allegedly?" echoed Marie, aghast. "Ya mean ya don't believe the stories about the crash landings and the government cover-ups?"

Kitty shrugged. "Nah, I think it's just something made up by people who watched way too many episodes of 'X-Files' and 'Star Trek'."

"No way. Have you been to Roswell? Or seen all those videos showing the big UFO over Phoenix? This stuff's real."

A spirited argument ensued between the girls, and Violar tuned it out. Aliens or no aliens, she had a bigger problem on her hands: Rosa was watching her – without so much as casting a glance in her direction. The flow of magic still wrapped around Rosa, but so far, it hadn't reached out to touch Violar after its first failed attempt.

She pretended to study the game with intense concentration, but her focus was on her radioactive Danger Sense.

"Your turn, Rosa." Jimmy turned around with a disarming smile, holding out a plastic pistol to the centaur. "Vi, why don't you take my controller?"

Violar gulped inwardly, but she smiled and took the controller. She grinned companionably at Rosa. "Let's take down these aliens and leave nothing else for Kitty and Marie to argue about, shall we?"

Rosa hesitantly smiled back on her, then took up her own pistol with an intense look on her face. She dropped into a balanced stance and gripped the pistol with both hands, extending both arms and glaring straight ahead of her.

The game began in a virtual warehouse, and Violar's attention shifted to the gun – a form of weaponry she wasn't accustomed to. She frowned, aimed at an alien that appeared on the screen, and pulled the trigger. She missed.

The alien went down anyway. Rosa shot it and another alien with lightning speed.

"Cover me. Don't hit the STAAR member," clipped Rosa as a blue-clad human soldier appeared in the warzone. She fired off two more shots, and two aliens exploded. "We're going into the underground tunnels next. On your left…"

Violar fired and missed, but her aim rapidly improved. She caught sight of another alien. "The corner, Rosa!"

Rosa had already fired and dropped the alien. She and Violar moved through the game's digital world, snapping out succinct orders to each other and mowing down the aliens. They progressed into deeper levels. Bobby and Jimmy hovered in the background, cheering them on.

"Shoot that! Shotgun upgrade!" Jimmy's pointing finger entered Violar's field of vision, and she fired and nailed it. "Yes!"

Later on, when they were ambushed by several aliens at the same time, Rosa abruptly said, "Grenade!"

An explosion eliminated all their enemies at that moment, and Violar gave a one-sided grin without taking her eyes from the screen. "Not bad."

"Not bad yourself," muttered Rosa. "Come on. We have to activate that self-destruct sequence."

They were so caught up in the game that neither girl realized how they'd meshed into a perfectly efficient military duo like the warriors they were. At last, with their objective accomplished and Area 51 blown to smithereens, they relaxed and placed their pistols in the holders – without looking at each other. Bobby and Jimmy applauded them on a job well done.

Violar stepped back. "Kitty and Marie, your turn!"

The time flew as the group saved the world over and over again from a malicious alien invasion. After awhile, Jimmy looked at the wall clock and did a double take.

"Guys…" He gripped Bobby by the back of his shirt collar and Rosa by the forearm. "We have to get out of here. Time to warm up for the next game."

Violar stiffened and came back to reality. The three hockey players took their leave of Violar and the girls rather eagerly, ready to get back on the ice and play the hockey version of Area 51, Violar thought. They darted out the door, leaving the room empty – save for the three mutant girls.

"Yay, we get the game to ourselves!" Kitty declared, lunging for the red pistol.

"Yeah, finally!" Marie plucked the blue pistol from its holder and reached for the start button.

She never made it. Violar gripped her forearm – and Kitty's. "No, don't!"

"Hey!" yelped Marie, pulling at the centaur's iron grasp.

"Ow!" Kitty phased her arm right through Violar's hand and backed away, staring at her as if she'd lost her mind. "What are you doing, Vi?"

"Going after Bobby," said Violar in the same military-serious voice she'd been using when they'd infiltrated Area 51's compound. "Let's go, quick!"

"What'sa matter with ya?" demanded Marie. She stubbornly stood her ground.

Violar gritted her teeth, her fierce gaze shifting between the girls. "I don't have time to debate this – or explain it. There's magic… they have magic. I felt it in my Danger Sense. The last time I felt that, I was fighting neevils in the Marshes."

Kitty and Marie exchanged glances, then frowned at the centaur. Violar had told them enough stories that they knew what Narnia's neevils – and the Marshes – were.

"You're positive?" asked Marie skeptically.

"There can be no mistake. Nothing else causes this reaction in my Danger Sense."

"They're _kids_, Vi," said Kitty, exasperated with the centaur. "Like us. What could they possibly do?"

"I don't know." Violar set her jaw, scowling at the door. Her stomach was in knots. "But think of the missions for the X-Men you've been on already, and you're the same age as they are. What are you capable of?"

Kitty clamped her mouth shut and looked mulish.

Marie frowned. "So what… ya think they're, like, mutants or somethin'?"

Violar shrugged. "I don't know. All I can tell you is that it's not right. We have to get to that arena, and fast. Bobby could be in great danger." She stared hard at the girls. "Be ready for anything. We may have to break rules and risk revealing ourselves – all of us. For Bobby's sake."

Dead silence fell. A moment later, the game room was empty.


	4. Clear And Present Danger

The trio of girls wasted no time in crossing the campus grounds, and all three were silent until they were inside the TD Bank Sports Center. Violar poked her head into the arena, where another game was in the final minutes of the third period.

"They're not here," she announced to her companions. "How do we get into those tunnel things?" She pointed at the exits where she'd seen the players emerge before.

"Locker rooms," said Kitty, grabbing Violar by the wrist. "This way."

They hurried down the empty corridors, where cheering and groans of disappointment echoed through the arena. Signs directed them to the locker rooms, and Violar halted when she saw the yellow-jacketed security guard standing by the entrance. She chewed on her lower lip as she saw the sign posted on the wall next to the entrance: NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL BEYOND THIS POINT.

Rogue grabbed Violar and Kitty by their forearms and dragged them around the corner before they were spotted.

"I think it's a safe bet that we don't count as authorized personnel," muttered Kitty.

"Or boys," Rogue pointed out. "That _is_ a men's locker room."

Kitty giggled, but Violar's mind was elsewhere – on the security guard.

_Perhaps if I explain the situation to him . . ._

The thought died in her head before she could complete it. There was no way the centaur was going to blow her cover – or Bobby's – by telling a solid, intimidating security guard some far-fetched and outlandish story about how two hockey-playing kids might be dangerous, let alone hint at anything connected with mutants. Or black magic.

"So what are we gonna do now?" Marie turned to her.

Violar didn't answer. She casually peeked around the corner at the guard and the entrance. There was no way they could get past him without arousing suspicion.

_No. That's not true._

"Kitty." Violar ducked behind the corner again and kept her voice low. "Can you phase yourself into the locker room and make sure Bobby's all right?"

Kitty choked. "Vi, that's the _last_ thing I'd have expected you to suggest."

"What?" Violar looked completely bewildered. "Why?"

Kitty's eyes blinked wide in shock. "Okay, just imagine me phasing into a locker room – right into the middle of a group of guys in, uh, various states of dress. And undress."

Violar flushed. That hadn't even occurred to her, because Narnia didn't have locker rooms.

Marie giggled. "Oh mah Gawd, that'd be fun!" She whipped off her glove and held out her bare hand. "Here, girl, lemme have a lil' bit o' that phasin' power! Ah volunteer for this mission, y'all!"

Kitty dodged aside and swatted Marie's shoulder. "Put your glove back on, you boy-crazy loon!"

Marie pretended to pout as she slowly tugged her glove over her fingers.

"Ladies, could we please stay focused?" Violar was amused by her companions, but concern for Bobby overrode everything else. "In Narnia, the wielders of dark magic needed only seconds to do a lot of damage. They could have a whole locker room of children either incapacitated or . . . wiped out by now." Violar shivered. "Jimmy and Rosa might not even be human at all, but creatures _pretending_ to be human. I don't know. But listen, about that locker room. Isn't Rosa in there?"

"Not in the boys' locker room," Kitty answered. "They probably have another room set up just for girls so they can change."

Violar scuffed her boot toe against the squeaky linoleum floor. "Well, I think we're out of options." She shot an apologetic glance at Kitty. "Go on in."

"Lucky dog," grumbled Marie. "Why couldn't Ah'a been born with that kinda power?"

Violar suddenly breathed a low, incredulous laugh. "Because Aslan knew it'd be no good for you, that's why. Kitty, you'd better go."

Kitty shook her head, sighed, and pressed into the wall until her body vanished. Violar and Marie were left alone in the corridor. The centaur stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and paced in a little circle as Marie bemoaned her missed opportunity to behold a lot of young, athletic, handsome boys without their hockey gear on.

Violar suddenly rounded on her. "Will you stop? Please? You're driving me completely insane."

Marie grinned, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Secretly, I bet ya wanted to go in there. Jimmy's in there too, ya know."

Violar groaned and turned away, thumping her forehead against the wall. "Either I'm going to lose it, or I'll round up Kitty and Bobby and we'll put duct tape over your mouth to keep you quiet for the rest of the trip. And I hear it hurts like fire when you peel it off. Really, Rogue!"

Before Marie could answer, Kitty stepped out of the wall – and knocked heads with Violar. Hard.

"Ouch!"

Both girls staggered sideways, rubbing their temples and glaring at each other.

"Next time, Kitty, take a little longer before you come into phase!"

"Next time, Vi, stay away from the wall!"

Marie couldn't help laughing. "Ah'm sorry fer laughin', but y'all shoulda seen yerselves!"

Violar groaned and gave her aching head a little shake. "Never mind. Kitty, what did you find in there?"

"Boys," she snapped. "In various states of dress."

Marie giggled.

Violar gave Marie a warning glance. "No, I mean… did you find Bobby?"

"Yes. In various states of dress."

Marie laughed harder.

Violar made a frustrated noise and tipped her head to the ceiling, then gripped Marie and Kitty by the sleeve and pulled them further out of earshot of the guard. Inside the arena, a buzzer sounded, and a loud cheer went up.

"You know what I'm asking, Kitty," said Violar firmly. "He's alright, isn't he?"

Kitty nodded, equally serious. "He's fine."

"Oh he's fine awright," put in Marie with a wicked grin. "Real fine."

Violar frowned at her, then turned back to Kitty. "Did you hear Jimmy or Rosa say anything odd?"

"Not Rosa. I sneaked into the girls' locker room too, and Rosa was with a couple other girl players talking about, well, girl stuff. Jimmy. . ." Kitty cast her gaze to the floor and took a deep, deep breath. The veins in her neck stood out, indicating she wasn't sure about continuing.

"Kitty." Violar stepped closer, staring at her with a warrior's intensity. "What did Jimmy talk about?"

After a long exhale, Kitty looked up at her. "Well, he was talking about you quite a bit."

Violar's jaw dropped, and she instantly took two steps backwards as her heartbeat quickened. "What? What… what did he say about me?"

"He asked Bobby all sorts of questions, like . . . like if you had a boyfriend, if you liked sports, what your hobbies are. Basically, the sort of questions a guy asks about a girl he's interested in."

Violar flushed pink, bit her lip, and turned away. Trepidation and hurt battled for possession of her emotions and reflected in her tormented features. Next to her, she heard Marie giggling behind her hand.

"Now what?" Annoyance crept into Violar's tone.

Marie turned to her, grinning wide. "All that worryin' you were doin' about Bobby, sendin' Kitty in there to see if he was awright, and what do we find out? That Jimmy has the hots for ya. Like we didn't know that already. Vi, you are one centaur that's got it goin' on."

Violar groaned and stared up at the ceiling, as if imploring Aslan for help. "Exactly. A _centaur._ I'm sure most gentlemen are dying to have a girlfriend with four legs and a tail. Never mind!" she suddenly snapped as Marie collapsed in a fresh fit of laughter. "I tell you, you really are driving me insane! There's only one good conclusion we can draw from this, though." Violar turned to Kitty, ignoring Marie completely. "If Jimmy has time to stand around and talk about a girl, whatever he's planning can't be that serious – or soon. I'd bet you tomorrow's dinner that nothing will happen to jeopardize Bobby during this game, at least. We can breathe more easily until then – not that I'm advocating we drop our guard. We can't afford to do that with dark magic wielders around. Understand?"

Kitty nodded. Violar didn't look to see what Marie would do.

Kitty patted her shoulder. "So, why don't we just go find some seats and watch the game? I'll buy some funnel cakes to cheer you up."

Violar let out a long sigh, feeling defeated. Funnel cakes were wonderful to a point. She'd hoped to scrape together more evidence about Jimmy and Rosa, but all she had were the stirrings in her Danger Sense. It was irrefutable proof to her, because she'd felt those things in bad circumstances before; but it wouldn't be good enough for her friends.

"Yes, let's go. But we're sitting as close to the players as possible so we can keep an eye on Jimmy and Rosa."

The two mutant girls nodded. Violar was inwardly grateful that neither Kitty nor Marie showed the slightest hint of simply humoring her.

They sat in the row just behind the player benches. Fifteen minutes later the Flying Tigers and their opponents, a team called the Tarrytown Troopers, entered the rink for their pre-game skate. Violar's thoughts drifted away: The sound of skating blades slicing into the ice reminded her of battles in Narnia.

She closed her eyes. All of a sudden, the angry red air around her was choked with smoke and ash. Cries and bellows of wounded creatures and throaty roars from the warriors who still fighting rang in her ears.

Violar galloped through the battlefield, her palomino fur thick with dirt and caked blood. She clutched her twin swords and looked around, panting heavily.

The worst of the fighting was over. The invaders from Ettinsmoor had been beaten off. A few minotaurs and mangy coyotes were fleeing for the northern borders and the shadowed wastelands beyond, and other beasts were being thrown to the ground and tied up – prisoners to be taken to the dungeons of Cair Paravel. High King Peter would ultimately decide their fate. A line of fauns and graceful naiads worked to stamp out the brush fires started by flaming arrows, while anxious forest dryads hovered close by and watched their progress with deep concern.

Weariness began to settle in on Violar as she slowed to a walk on the far side of the battlefield, and she wiped her forehead with the back of one grimy hand – without letting go of her sword. She wasn't ready to let go of her swords yet. Clusters of Narnian warriors lifted their weapons and uttered hoarse shouts of victory.

The centaur's tense face broke into a faint smile. Narnia was safe again. Then her smile faded as she looked over the battlefield once more, noting the still, twisted bodies of her dead comrades and the struggling and writhing of the critically injured. Violar's face fell. The gravediggers would have their hands – and paws – full, and it would be a long night for a healer.

A powerful rush of wings to her right made her glance aside as a dark gray winged stallion swept in for a landing, his snow-white mane like flames rippling along his neck.

"Praise be to Aslan," he muttered to Violar, folding his white wings into the slate-gray fur of his back.

"Aye," Violar agreed. "Freedom lives another day. But it has come at great cost." She nodded grimly at the blood-soaked land before them.

"As do all things worth fighting for," replied the stallion wisely.

Violar pursed her lips and nodded again. "I'm grateful you're safe, Sir Brandolor."

The coal-gray stallion turned his majestic head and fixed dark eyes on her. "I, too, am grateful that Aslan has not chosen this day to take you home."

Violar swallowed hard and drew a deep breath, steeling her nerves. "My thanks to you, good horse. But let us not tarry here. We have much work to do ere the sun sets."

"Good riddance to the sun on such a black day," remarked the horse, inclining his head ever so slightly in a gesture of respect to Violar. "I will take to the skies and start the search at the north end of the battlefield. Tell Sandarius and the Black Dwarf to bring in the wagons."

Violar cringed. Sandarius was a powerful blood bay centaur with ice blue eyes, and he intimidated her – and scorned her, outcast of the Council Ring that she was. Violar did not relish speaking with him. Durin, on the other hand, was a friend – a Black Dwarf whom she'd defeated once in a spar, thus earning his respect… and his name. Black Dwarves were very secretive towards members outside their own race, often not revealing even their names; and Violar greatly treasured the fact that he'd trusted her enough to talk with her. And, at Durin's behest, she'd kept his name to herself.

"Aslan be with you, Sir Brandolor," replied Violar, already turning away and squaring her shoulders in preparation for a showdown with Sandarius. "It will be done."

With a strong flap of his white wings, Brandolor was airborne.

Violar turned away with a heavy sigh, dragging her hooves in the scorched dirt as she trudged in Sandarius' direction. Even on a good day, it was difficult for Violar to talk with him – to bear up under the continual sting of his sarcasm and open ridicule. Not all of that ridicule was directed at her, either. A lot of venom was reserved for her parents. Those were the insults that hurt the most.

She could see Sandarius through a thin veil of lingering smoke, standing with several other centaurs who were discussing the battle. They were probably going over plans to secure the border, Violar thought. They would have plenty to do, making sure the neevils didn't turn around and sneak into Narnia in the middle of the night.

Violar was mentally rehearsing a brief address for Sandarius when a black thundercloud struck her Danger Sense and stopped her in her tracks. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and ran all down her long centaurian spine. There was a loud crack and a wild whinny.

"Violar!" came the warning shout from the sky.

Violar wheeled with a cry and threw up her swords just in time to see a streak of blue light fly past her left shoulder, nearly close enough to singe her fur. A brown werewolf in a tattered cloak glared at her with his yellow eyes, but he had no time for a second shot: The winged horse was swooping down on him, white wings pinned flat against his back. The werewolf turned and extended his clawed hands toward the charging Brandolor, muttering something awful under his breath.

A ball of blue fire collided with the winged stallion, freezing him in midair. Instantly the werewolf's chanting changed, and a volley of red bolts slammed into the helpless horse – one after another after another.

Violar heard herself screaming as each flare struck Brandolor with unerring, deadly force. "No, no, no, no, no!"

She was already in full gallop, a curtain of red blinding her to everything except the vicious werewolf. She whirled her swords like silver bolts of lightning and came crashing down on him with merciless strength. With a grunt of fury she buried both blades to the hilts through the werewolf's chest and pinned him into the ground.

A wave of dark power shocked Violar so hard that she was knocked breathless. Her vision blurred as her heavy centaur body was thrown backwards, but she held doggedly to her swords, snarling like a mad beast and glaring at her enemy with black fire in her blazing eyes.

The werewolf's glazed yellow eyes met hers, and his hideous face curled into a wicked grin. Choked, hoarse laughter ripped from his throat. He was dying, impaled by her two swords, and still he laughed at her – because she was in agony. Then he convulsed once and his yellow eyes went dark as he fell limp.

A horrible crash behind her sent Violar reeling, and she turned to see a broken, battered wreck of a charcoal body and mangled wings encased in fading blue light. A snarling cry of anguish tore from her chest as she abandoned the werewolf and galloped over. She slid to her palomino knees beside the grounded stallion and threw her arms around his muscular neck.

"Brandolor! Brandolor!" She gripped his white mane and shook him desperately, but his eyes were closed and a deep serenity surrounded the majestic creature. There was no response.

"Brandolor!" Violar screeched frantically, shaking him again. He was still warm! He'd just been talking to her only a moment before. It was all wrong. The battle was supposed to be over. This couldn't be. One moment, he'd been alive… this powerful, brave animal… and now he was gone. She was too late.

"Brandolor, no – Brandolor!"

Violar balled her fists in his mane and buried her face in the dead horse's still-warm fur as intense sorrow shredded her soul. Choked, furious sobs wrenched from the centaur as she clutched him close, and she could feel the shadows of other Narnian warriors hovering around them.

She didn't care. Her mind reeled. Victory meant nothing in the face of such horrible finality. Doubled over with grief and rage, Violar uttered a deep, primal roar of agony and hugged Brandolor's neck fiercely as her tears soaked into the fading warmth of his fur.

A loud buzzer shocked Violar back to reality. She gasped and sat back in her chair, hyperventilating and gripping the blue plastic armrests with the same strength she'd held onto Brandolor all those years ago.

Fingers snapped in front of her face. "Ya okay, Vi? Ya look like ya've seen a ghost or somethin'."

Violar swallowed hard and clenched her trembling jaw. A muscle worked in her cheek as she fought to bring herself under control. Slowly the forms of the hockey players took shape before her blurred vision, and she hastily dashed away hot tears with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine," she replied huskily, though her voice sounded like a heartbroken sob.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "What is it, Vi?"

Violar lowered her head and sniffed. She couldn't bring herself to meet Kitty's gaze right then.

"Just… a memory," she answered shakily as her breathing gradually evened out. "Some scars… never fade."

Kitty narrowed her eyes in concern. "What caused the scar in the first place?"

Violar gulped bitterly. "Dark magic."

Over Violar's bowed head, Kitty and Marie exchanged bewildered, worried glances.

Before anything else could be said, the Flying Tigers came skating up to the bench. Bobby spotted Violar through the glass separating the players from the fans and smiled at her, then looked puzzled at her pale features. Violar shook herself out of it and managed a wan smile back at her friend.

Then Jimmy turned around. In a moment, he noticed her and smiled as well. Everything inside of Violar twisted up with conflicting emotion, and she looked away, biting her lip.

Rosa, however, did not smile when she caught sight of her. Instead she eyed her suspiciously. Violar didn't see the look, but Kitty did. She frowned.

"What's her problem?" she hissed in Violar's ear.

Marie answered for the dazed centaur. "Jealousy," the group's authority on love and romance decided confidently.

Violar didn't feel like arguing.

Another buzzer and a mad slapping of the puck kicked the game into action, but it was awhile before Violar found the will to cheer the team on. The funnel cakes Kitty flagged down and purchased from a fellow walking in the aisle couldn't tempt the centaur's appetite – not when she had rocks in the pit of her stomach.

But she had three periods of energetic playoff hockey to gradually bring her out of it.

In some ways, this game was similar to the first one for the Flying Tigers. Bobby, Jimmy and Rosa seemed to do the majority of scoring – and hitting. Some of the parents complained about those three "hotshots" being showoffs and stealing spots from established players. And, as before, the Tigers lost. This time, however, the score wasn't as lopsided as the earlier 7-3 slaughter at the hands of the Monarchs. The Flying Tigers lost to the Tarrytown Troopers by a mere 4-3 margin.

Another difference in this game – compared to the previous one – was that every once in a while, Rosa would cast suspicious glances at Violar from the bench. That didn't help release the icy cold that had gripped Violar's insides, but it also bothered the centaur on a far more trivial front: Had Rosa been too distracted by Violar to concentrate on the game?

The players skated off the ice, and Kitty, Marie and Violar rose to exit the building with the departing crowds. They loitered at the entrance of the locker room, and Violar leaned her back against the wall with her hands shoved deep in her pockets, staring at the floor and saying nothing. If Kitty and Marie were chattering away, as they usually did, the centaur heard none of it. She was lost in her own thoughts.

Yet Violar was aware that the powerful memory had consumed her consciousness, and she needed to break out of it. Brandolor had died, and in doing so, he had probably saved her from the same fate. But what was done, was done. It was all in the past. She'd been trying to reconcile that memory for years, and the only success she'd had was when she pushed it deliberately out of her mind and made herself forget about it for a little while.

Only the possibility of real danger to a friend had brought that memory to the surface.

Relief flooded through Violar as she saw Bobby emerge from the locker room area. Nothing seemed wrong with him – except for the fact that his team had just lost another game. Violar took a deep breath, and a genuine smile lit her features as she came forward to greet him.

A second later, Jimmy and Rosa appeared behind him. Violar stopped where she was, glancing sharply between the two strangers before she realized that she was hardly being subtle about it.

"Good game, guys," Marie said.

"Well, a better one than last time," Bobby noted.

"Yeah, I think everyone was working together better than they did this afternoon," Jimmy said encouragingly. "Just think of it as warming up for tomorrow, where it's either we win or we go home early."

"Well, tomorrow's tomorrow, Jimmy. Right now," Bobby patted his stomach, "it's dinner time. I'm starving."

To Violar's surprise, her own stomach growled. She glanced aside at Kitty, only to find a funnel cake on a plate being held out to her – along with a warm, relieved smile. Violar shot Kitty a grateful look for her thoughtfulness and took the cake, nibbling on pieces of the delicious treat.

"I saw an IHOP like a block away from the school's main entrance," Jimmy informed them. "How about we go there?"

"Sounds great," enthused Kitty.

"Ah love IHOP," Marie chimed in. "All them syrup flavors!"

Violar brought up the rear as the laughing group filtered down the hallway, and twice she caught Rosa looking over her shoulder with concern and suspicion in her dark eyes. Each time Violar met the other girl's gaze, Rosa quickly looked away.

That set Violar's nerves on edge. Tonight was going to be interesting, to say the least.

"I'm driving," Bobby declared as he held open the glass doors.

"Can the car even hold six people?" wondered Kitty as they stepped into the frigid evening and descended the steps.

"All we hafta do is sit on each other's laps," suggested Marie with a sly glance at Violar and a slight wriggle of her dark eyebrows.

Violar caught her breath so fast that she choked, and hid a blush behind a mild coughing fit. Then she straightened up with all the centaurian dignity she possessed and sent a challenging stare in the mutant girl's direction. "If we leave Marie here in the parking lot, that will solve _all_ our problems."

"No, ya can't leave me here!" Rogue complained. "All them flavors of syrup!"

"Precisely." Violar gave her a cool, calculating smile. "So behave yourself."

Kitty giggled at that. Violar noticed that Jimmy's cheeks puffed out as he fought to hold in his laughter. He then took a deep breath and turned to Marie. "Who gets that obsessed about syrup? What do you do, drink it?"

"Naw, Ah like to mix the flavors, and I pour it everythin' – eggs, sausage, whatever."

Violar made a face, but she was smiling.

Bobby unlocked the car doors, and the girls piled into the backseat while he took the driver's spot and Jimmy sat on the passenger side. Violar was right behind him, Kitty and Marie were sandwiched in the middle, and Rosa was crammed against the left car door. At least Violar and Rosa hadn't been forced to sit next to each other. The two boys talked about today's games, and things the Flying Tigers needed to work on tomorrow if they wanted to get at least one victory. Violar listened to them in silence, mainly concentrating on Jimmy. She felt her worries ebb the more she listened to him talk. He just sounded so . . . normal.

_Maybe he is. Maybe I'm just overreacting._

Violar clenched her teeth, thinking back to the day of Brandolor's death. She had let her guard down, thinking all was well. Perhaps if she'd been more alert . . .

Her eyes flickered across the backseat to Rosa, who just stared ahead of her in silence. Violar used the girl's presence to refuel her concern. Her complacency had cost the life of one friend long ago. It would not happen again.

When they reached the IHOP, a hostess led them to a table with six seats.

"No, ya sit right here, Vi." Marie patted the back of one chair – the chair that happened to be next to where Jimmy sat. Violar had already taken an innocent step toward the trap before she realized what Marie was doing, and Violar stopped and glared at her.

Jimmy turned to Violar and shot her a friendly smile. Never one to be impolite, Violar smiled back at him, then shifted a hard gaze to Marie and pinned her with it. "Ever the thoughtful one," she said through gritted teeth. Marie batted her eyelashes at the centaur, knowing there wasn't a blasted thing Violar could do to get even with her in a public place, and she took her own seat next to Kitty. Violar clasped her hands and swallowed hard, smiled again at Jimmy, and slid into the chair beside him.

A waitress came by a minute later with glasses of water and menus. As Violar looked over the colorful menu with various pictures of food, her worries vanished for a moment. Once again, her admiration for human cleverness surfaced. What race in Narnia could have ever conceived of opening an establishment that served a popular breakfast food, in several different varieties, morning, noon and night?

And it all looked amazing. Violar wanted to order everything on the menu, and she gulped as she turned the laminated menu flaps.

The waitress returned and took their orders. "I'll have a Grand Slam breakfast and the Southwestern skillet," Violar decided. "Scrambled eggs, please, and for toast, I'd like those English muffins."

The waitress' eyes flicked to Violar in surprise even as she scribbled down the order. "You do know those are both pretty big, don't you? This ain't Applebee's."

The remark gave Violar a moment's hesitation. She wasn't sure what "applebees" were, but she smiled at the waitress. "The bigger, the better."

"Would you like one of your orders in a to-go box?"

"Ah, no, thank you."

The woman couldn't quite seem to figure that one out. She looked at Violar a moment longer, then continued down the table, collecting orders as she went. Finally she headed for the kitchen, and Violar clasped her hands on the tabletop as the waiting began.

Marie hopped up and wandered to the next table, staring at the tray that held four containers of syrup. With a triumphant little cry, she plucked one of the little jugs from the tray and brought it back to the table.

"Blackberry," she explained, sitting down again. "We awready have the other flavors here; Blueberry, plain maple, butterscotch, and strawberry. Ah knew we were missin' one."

Violar's silvery eyes lit up. "They have blackberry syrup?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Marie gave it to her. "Welcome to syrup heaven," she declared. "Read it for yerself."

Violar took the little jug and studied it, then lifted it and sniffed delicately at the lid. Blackberry perfume overwhelmed her senses, and she breathed a soft moan. Marie grinned at her. "Told'ja."

Violar reluctantly handed the syrup back and clasped her hands again.

"So, Jimmy," Marie leaned forward. "Ya said ya go to a boardin' school like us?"

"Yeah, I do."

"What's it like?"

Jimmy paused. Violar's Danger Sense prickled as she sensed uneasiness bubbling from somewhere inside the young man. He shifted in his seat and answered, "Well, you know. It's like any other place. We go to class, we got some nice dorms. We've got a forest around us. It's pretty nice."

"That's nice." Marie nodded, then leaned even further across the table. "So, y'all got yerself a girlfriend?"

Violar glared at her in horror. Where was this conversation leading?

The corners of Jimmy's mouth twisted, and an ache settled in Violar's Danger Sense. She glanced at Jimmy and studied him closely. Had Marie touched on a sensitive subject?

"Um . . . no, actually," Jimmy finally replied. "I'm currently single."

"Really?" Marie practically squealed. Excitement illuminated her brown eyes, which then shifted to Violar.

The centaur's cheeks flamed, and she lowered her head. She wished she could slither under the table and hide like a shy foal, especially when she sensed Jimmy turning towards her. An electric tingle ran down her spine. Was she next in line to be questioned about her love life – or lack thereof?

Before anything else could be said, an unexpected savior came to Violar's rescue.

"Um, could you guys excuse me," Rosa suddenly spoke up, rising from her chair. "I, um, I need to make a call."

Jimmy's head whipped toward her. "What?" The bewilderment in his voice was evident.

"Yeah. I just remembered I gotta make a call. Jimmy, come with me."

"Huh? Uh, why?"

"Just come with me." Rosa sounded annoyed as she grabbed Jimmy by the arm and nearly yanked him out of his seat.

He turned back to the group as Rosa dragged him out of the dining area. "Um, I'll be back in a bit . . . I guess."

Violar might have giggled, had the situation been any less serious. But her Danger Sense was in flames, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rosa was deliberately taking Jimmy away from their conversation.

Marie knew it, too. "Jealous," she muttered. She grinned at Violar. "Told'ja."

Violar wished that were the case. Logically, Marie's comment made sense. But Violar knew something else was wrong. As the restaurant's glass doors swung shut behind the departing pair, Violar suddenly came to a decision and stood up.

"Vi? Where are you going?" Bobby asked as Violar rose from her seat.

Violar stopped and clenched her fists. "Um…" Her gaze strayed longingly to the front doors, then came back to Bobby. She hated lying – hated it with a passion. Her silvery eyes came back to Bobby. Jimmy and Rosa were his friends. She needed proof that she wasn't merely being paranoid. "Um, to the restroom."

"But the restrooms are over there." Confused, Bobby nodded to the rear of the dining area.

Violar didn't respond as she strode between the rows of tables. She had to hurry, or she'd lose them – if it wasn't too late already. She broke from the restaurant doors and glanced to her left, just in time to catch a glimpse of two people ducking around the corner of the IHOP building.

Violar drew a careful breath, then pressed her back against the wall and crept carefully in the same direction. She paused a few feet from the corner, her keen ears tuned into the familiar voices.

"Okay, as my friends back in Britain would say, what the bloody hell's going on?" Violar heard Jimmy's voice from the darkness.

"Jimmy, something's going on here," Rosa said.

"Like what?"

A pause, then Rosa answered. "There's something not right about that Violar girl."

Violar jolted at that. She'd known Rosa was suspicious of her, but to hear someone else say there was something wrong with her shook Violar. Had she let her centaurian heritage slip?

"What the hell are you talking about?" she heard Jimmy respond. "There's nothing wrong with Violar. She's cool, she's smart, and oh yeah, she's friggin' hot."

Violar jolted again in shock as a scarlet blush flared to life, and she puffed her cheeks to keep from gasping aloud. Hot. No one had ever called her "hot" before. At least not to her face. Then again, she reminded herself, Jimmy wouldn't have either – if she hadn't been eavesdropping.

"She's also not normal," Rosa said.

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Violar raised a curious eyebrow at the name of the wizard from those Arthurian tales she'd read in the X-Mansion's library as Jimmy continued. "You know, you're the one who told me I need to get over Rana and stop pining over Mireet. Now I meet a girl who's cool and beautiful and you start freaking out. What did she do to not earn the Rosa Infante seal of approval?"

"I think she knows about magic."

Violar jolted for the third time. She blinked, trying to puzzle out the clues as Jimmy and Rosa threw them out, but she didn't entirely understand what they were saying. And the constant issues regarding herself and Jimmy, which Violar still struggled fiercely against, were far too distracting. She gave her head a shake to clear it.

_Focus, Violar. Focus._

"What, you think she's a witch?" Jimmy asked.

Violar scowled and tightened her jaw. _That, I definitely am not._

"I don't know. But when we we're talking this afternoon, she asked what the name of our school was. So I told her it was the Northern Massachusetts Boarding School. You know we have a charm on that name to keep Muggles from asking any more questions about it, right? Well after I said it, it seemed like, I don't know. I had this feeling she was fighting off the charm. Like it wouldn't work on her."

"How the hell is that possible if she's a Muggle?"

"I don't know."

Violar's brain short-circuited. _What the heck's a Muggle?_

"Jimmy, there's something else we need to consider," Rosa said.

"What?"

"The fact that . . . the fact that she might be working for the other side."

Violar almost couldn't stifle her gasp. Working for the _other side?_ That depended on which side Jimmy and Rosa were working for! But now Violar knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these two were very likely to be her worst enemies. She steeled her heart.

"Are you serious?" Jimmy responded. "I mean, Violar just doesn't seem . . . she just seems nice."

Violar's resolve cracked.

"We barely know that girl. Who knows what she's really like? And the way things are right now, we can't afford to let our guard down."

There was a long pause. Violar held her breath, her mind in a whirl. They were steeling themselves – as she was. If they already knew she was an enemy, then what harm would there be in confronting them head-on – rather than waiting for them to make the first move?

Violar wished she'd brought her swords.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jimmy sounded dejected. "All right, we'll keep an eye on her, and the first chance we get we'll get in touch with your parents or Jared's parents and let them know. Dammit."

"What?"

"It's just . . . man, after Penny dumped me it's like my luck with women has gone right down the toilet. Mireet didn't want to get involved with me because we'd both be going our separate ways when the school year ended at Hogwarts. Then Rana . . . well, that turned out to be a disaster. Now this."

A needle-like ache of compassion pricked Violar's heart. She knew how Jimmy felt, yet he hadn't given up on the idea of love. Not like she had. The centaur glanced away, feeling oddly sorry for Jimmy – and admiring him, grudgingly, for his courage.

Then she scowled and straightened up. Never mind all that: The lives of her friends were at stake. Time to act. Swords wouldn't be much good against dark magic wielders anyway – not if they had a chance at the first shot.

Violar took a firm step toward the corner.

Tires squealed. Violar's head snapped toward the direction of the awful noise. She swallowed a horrified breath as a large black SUV barreled across the parking lot on a collision course with IHOP. It was moving much too fast and picking up speed, but the last-second squeal of brakes she expected – and inwardly prayed for – didn't come.

Like a charging rhinoceros, the huge vehicle blundered into the restaurant wall and smashed through glass and brick with a deafening crash – right toward the table where her friends sat.

A wild shriek escaped the centaur. "Bobby!"

Forgetting all about Jimmy and Rosa, Violar broke into a blind run, grabbed the doors, and practically tore them from the hinges as she plunged inside.


	5. Truth Under Fire

Violar gasped at the scene that greeted her inside IHOP and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the ruins of what had been a nice dining establishment only moments ago. The black SUV had come to a stop in the middle of the dining area, looking for all the world like a gleaming vehicle in a car dealership's showroom. Tables and chairs had been overturned. Plaster, plates and food were strewn about the floor, along with tiny shards of glass from the shattered windows that sparkled under the restaurant's ceiling lights. Pain seared Violar's heart as she saw the people lying on the floor. An elderly man rolled back and forth, blood streaming from his head. A heavyset, middle-age woman gripped her leg and screamed. A young redheaded woman sat propped up against a booth, clutching her arm and crying. A quick count revealed ten people injured. But as Violar looked around wildly, she couldn't find her friends anywhere. Panic exploded in her chest.

"Bobby! Kitty! Marie!"

"Over here!" Kitty called out as the three of them stood up from behind a table.

Violar gasped and darted forward again. "Thank Aslan you're alright…"

Marie looked a little dazed. "Mah… Gawd…"

Violar caught the girl in a tight hug, holding her close – and being careful to keep Marie's skin away from hers. Rogue's powers could be deadly.

Bobby strode to the counter and pointed at one of the shocked waitresses behind the counter. "Call 911! Tell them to get paramedics and ambulances over here, pronto!"

Kitty scowled at the black SUV in the middle of where their table had been. "Who was the idiot driving that thing? I'm going to drag him out of there and—"

"Holy crap."

Violar held her breath. Slowly, her head turned in the direction of the voice. Jimmy O'Bannon stood a few feet away, eyes wide as he viewed the carnage. Behind him was Rosa Infante, looking equally shocked.

Violar stared hard at them. They were genuinely upset about the disaster, and that touched Violar's heart. Jimmy and Rosa were a confusing paradox, but she'd worry about that later.

"You alright?" she asked Marie, giving her one more squeeze before releasing her.

"Yeah." Marie tugged her gloves back into place. "Ah'm just… devastated. The syrup spilled. All them flavors…"

Violar cut her off, glad to know Marie's shock had worn off to the point where she could joke amidst the carnage around her. "Good, because we have a lot of work to do. Go ask the waitresses for some tablecloths and dish towels we can use for bandages."

"Ah'll do better'n that," Marie promised as she headed for the counter.

Taking a deep breath, Violar gathered her courage and turned to Jimmy and Rosa. "Would you two be willing to help me? I—"

Just then, a mechanical roar came from the parking lot. Violar peered through the jagged hole made by the SUV as another vehicle barreled toward the restaurant – this one a streamlined red four-door car. Violar's heart leapt straight into her throat, and for a split-second she froze.

_I have to get all these people out of the way!_

"Jimmy, you know we don't have a choice here," Violar heard Rosa say. She froze again with her heart hammering, watching as Jimmy nodded at Rosa. Their utter calm in the face of the oncoming car shook her to the core. Were they going to do something rash – something self-sacrificial?

The two reached under their coats. Violar tensed.

_What are they doing?_

They both pulled out slender sticks_. _Before Violar could do anything, a gold beam of light streaked from Rosa's stick. Violar barely heard the gasps of the humans around them, her gaze locked on the beam as it shot through the hole and struck the oncoming car. The vehicle shimmered and turned into a tiny pink rubber ball that bounced onto the walkway, through the opening, and rolled past the SUV.

Violar gasped. Her mind refused to accept what she'd just witnessed. In slow motion, as if moving underwater, she bent down and picked up the little pink ball with shaking hands. She stared at it in horrified shock. Seconds before, it had been a red car – a speeding vehicle capable of causing a lot of death and destruction. Now it was a child's toy.

_What happened to the driver?_

"Aw man, this ain't good."

Violar turned to Jimmy and followed his gaze outside. Her Danger Sense buzzed with the fury of a hundred hornets' nests, building to a painful crescendo inside of her. Grimacing, she pressed a hand to her chest and gritted her teeth as she glared through the hole in the wall.

Three figures in dark robes stood in the parking lot.

Her Danger Sense turned her insides dark and cold. Dread surged through her. She could only remember her Danger Sense acting this way once before – in the presence of the powerful witch Maeta during the battles against her forces.

In the presence of evil incarnate.

Violar caught her breath, then rounded on Bobby's friends. "You know them?" she challenged. "Who . . . what are you?"

Jimmy turned to her, biting down on his lower lip. He looked grim and determined and deeply concerned – not the expression of a traitor. "I'll tell you later. For now, stay here and find some cover."

The look on his face was enough to earn her trust for the moment, and Violar nodded shortly. He charged toward the opening, Rosa on his heels.

"We gotta get 'em away from the parking lot," Rosa told him. "Away from all these Muggles."

Jimmy nodded as the two of them rushed outside. More bolts of colorful light flew from their sticks . . . or wands, perhaps? The robed men shot back with their own beams of light. Both Jimmy and Rosa produced clear, undulating shields with their wands, blocking many of the . . . spells?They didn't look like the spells in Narnia. Violar wished she could see the action better.

"What? How . . . how . . ." Marie asked breathlessly as she bounded up with an armload of tablecloths, white towels, and first aid kits. "Ah mean… how can they'all do that? Are they mutants, too?"

A pale bolt of light streaked into the restaurant. People shrieked as it slammed into a pastel-colored painting of a tranquil lake and shattered the glass. Violar's heart rate quickened.

"Never mind that," Violar snapped, grabbing the supplies from Marie. "We need to get these people stabilized as quickly as possible. Bobby, take that girl to one of the far booths and sit her down. Take this." She tossed him a first aid kit. "Make sure she's comfortable and cover her with something warm. She may have broken her arm or dislocated her shoulder – I don't know yet. Kitty, go to that woman—" she pointed to the middle-aged woman with the injured leg, who was still crying out "—and distract her. She has a broken leg. Tell her funny stories, stupid stories – it doesn't matter. Coax her to lie down and cover her with something warm. I'll be there shortly. Marie, stay with me."

Gripping a thin tablecloth between her hands, Violar shredded it into long strips and glanced at the opening in the wall. Spells continued to shoot across the parking lot. She wanted to be out there fighting, not depending on Jimmy and Rosa to defend them against three – _three_ – mysterious black figures who possessed dark magic powers. Who knew what Jimmy and Rosa were capable of in a battle situation, let alone against dark magic? They were just kids. And they were outnumbered, for goodness sakes.

"Easy," Violar murmured, kneeling beside the man with the head injury and pressing a firm hand into his chest. She'd found that the gesture was a quick way to get a patient's attention – and calm them down. "Everything's going to be all right now. It isn't every day when your dinner is interrupted like that, is it? Now, tell me if this hurts…"

Prattling on in the midst of her examination, Violar quickly determined that he had a concussion. It was his confused remark about being in the Longhorn Steakhouse that convinced her. She checked beneath his eyelids, and a worried furrow appeared in her forehead. Quickly but carefully, she wrapped a makeshift bandage around the bleeding gash in his temple, directing her conversation to the man's wife.

"He's going to be just fine, but you'll want to keep him awake for me. Can you do that? He has a concussion. He'll need stitches to close up that cut, but other than that, he's a very lucky man. And he has you." Violar gave the woman a warm smile. "We're going to move him into the back of the restaurant, and I want you to stay with him, alright?"

The woman nodded, and Violar looked up. "Bobby! Over here."

Bobby reluctantly left his charge. The woman with the hurt arm looked better, and she was nodding and sniffling as she huddled inside a warm jacket. Bobby had apparently enjoyed his assignment, but the centaur had no time for that now.

"Help Marie move this man into the back of the restaurant."

"What about his neck?" wondered the Iceman. "Don't you have to stabilize it first?"

"He doesn't have a neck injury," replied Violar confidently, but the worried look on his wife's face made her reconsider. "Alright. This won't take but a second…"

With another anxious glance at the battle raging in the parking lot, Violar hastily stuffed towels into a strip of tablecloth to form a thick cushion. Ever so gently, she tucked the cushion beneath the man's neck and tied off the cloth in front of his neck.

"Alright, now just relax. You're in good hands," she assured him. "Bobby, pick up his shoulders. Marie, take his legs. One, two, three!"

The two mutants lifted him, and he groaned as they carried him to the lobby. Violar turned: The woman with the broken leg was next. She was lying on the bench with her legs outstretched, and Kitty moved aside. Violar spoke soothingly as she rolled two towels together, set them on the table, and knelt before the woman.

"In no time at all, this will be over, and you'll have a wild story to tell your grandchildren. Now let's see… ah, that's the trouble." She gave a brief but thorough examination of the leg, determining exactly where the break had occurred. She ignored another peach-colored bolt of light that shot into IHOP, struck a hanging light fixture, and sent it crashing to the floor. "What's your favorite thing in the entire world?"

"Um… jewelry," the woman sniffed.

Violar choked back a startled laugh. "Well, you're a bit of a gypsy, aren't you? Alright." She kept her eyes carefully downcast as her expression tensed. "What's the most spectacular piece of jewelry you've ever seen?"

That caught the woman by surprise. "Uh… oh… I, I don't have a favorite. I've seen a lot of—"

"I'm sure you have," Violar cut her off. "Kitty, put the towels in her mouth, will you? Now, ma'am, do me a favor and bite down on these towels. That's the way. Now I'll tell you about the most spectacular piece of jewelry I've ever seen. Are you biting down hard?"

The woman nodded. Violar's face twisted into a determined scowl, and with a quick and forceful movement, she snapped the bones back into place. The woman roared in agony, Kitty flinched in shock, and Violar rose quickly, stroking her patient's cheeks and hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, brushing away the woman's tears and smears of mascara. "Shh, it's all over now. Your leg is going to be just fine. The pain will dissipate in a minute, I promise you. Just relax."

By now some of the IHOP employees were tending to the other injured customers. Violar shot another glance out the hole in the wall. To her shock and relief, the furious battle continued. That meant Jimmy and Rosa were at least holding their own out there – and they could probably use some long-overdue reinforcements.

"Kitty," said Violar, "when Marie gets here, do your best to secure this leg with a splint. Then find out what you can do for the woman with the injured arm – I doubt it's broken; she'd be in a lot more pain if she were. You can put those Band-Aid things on everyone else. Bobby," she called as he and Marie jogged back into the dining area, "come with me."

Kitty stared at Violar with wide eyes. "We can't just stay here, Vi!" she cried, looking a little angry.

Another bolt rushed into the restaurant and crashed into a table, tearing a smoldering gouge through the wood clear to the napkin holder.

"Yes you can! Listen, Kitty," Violar continued in a more reasonable tone, "if this woman doesn't get proper attention to this leg _immediately,_ she could have a serious limp for the rest of her life. Besides that, I need both of you to watch over these people in case we fail out there. You're their last line of defense."

The girl lowered her head and nodded. A look passed between Kitty and Marie as they went to work on the splint.

Violar paused long enough to grab three steak knives off a nearby table. With Bobby right behind her, Violar edged around the black SUV and headed straight for the hole in the wall. She peered out cautiously, keeping her body pressed to the wall.

"What are you doing?" Bobby hissed. "If we go out there, we'll have to—"

"Break the rules, I know." Violar fixed steady gray eyes on him as she untied her belt and shrugged out of her cream-colored trench coat, and she jammed the three knives into the side of her dress belt. "None of that matters now. Too many rules have been broken already tonight. Don't ask me any more questions. Survival – ours and theirs," she nodded to the injured people in the restaurant, "and Jimmy and Rosa's, comes first."

Bobby set his jaw and nodded. "Priorities."

Violar gave him a faint smile, then turned to the hole again, gazing intently into the darkness. "Stay low," she warned. "We're going for the car. I have to get my swords."

"I'll cover you," Bobby assured her. "But I don't really know _what_ we're fighting."

"Only Jimmy and Rosa know that." Violar's face hardened. "Let's go."

They stepped over the mangled mess of bricks and plaster, glancing furtively left and right. She spotted Jimmy and Rosa near some bushes in the front of the parking lot. Jimmy erected another undulating shield while Rosa fired off spells around it. The robed figures sought cover behind some vehicles. One deflected several of Rosa's spells with quick swipes of his wand. His two partners cast more spells behind an SUV. Bolts of light pounded Jimmy's shield. Even in the dark, Violar could see the strain on Jimmy's face, and desperation gripped her heart. How much longer would he last?

A spell deflected by one of the robed figures sizzled over Bobby's head.

"Whoa!" He ducked down as the bolt blew out a chunk of the IHOP's roof. He held out his hands and formed twin shields of ice in each one. "Vi! Get behind me!"

She obeyed. Another spell streaked toward them. It clipped the top of Bobby's right ice shield. He grimaced as shards of ice flew in all directions, but the shield held. Violar stayed close to Bobby's back and kept her head low until they finally reached the car.

Bobby swung his right hand to the ground, shattered one shield to bits, and kept the left shield in place as he fumbled in his pocket.

Every second grated on Violar's nerves. "Come on, Bobby – the keys!"

"Here!" He shoved them into her hand.

Violar instantly turned and knelt on the pavement as she worked the key into the lock and turned it, then opened the door and bent even lower to look under the backseat. Seconds later she emerged triumphantly with her twin swords gleaming in her hands.

"Let's go." She slammed the door shut and rose enough to crouch on the balls of her feet. "Time to help your Flying Tigers kick some tail."

Without a second thought, Violar punched her wrist over her sapphire choker. Instantly her black skirt whirled away over palomino hide, and she grew in height as her centaur body – complete with four legs and a snapping white tail – emerged. Her long-sleeved burgundy blouse helped her upper body fade into the darkness, but Violar was aware that her bright golden fur made too easy a target in the night.

There was nothing to be done about it now. She was a far more powerful fighter in her centaur form.

Just then, Jimmy's shield vanished. Violar broke into a gallop across the pavement – with Bobby right beside her – as Jimmy and Rosa dove behind the lighted IHOP marquee near the parking lot entrance, but their cover didn't last long. One of the dark figures pointed a wand, shot a spell at the marquee, and shattered it. The broken sign flashed, sizzled, and went dark.

Violar's hearts seized up. She judged the distance between her and her nearest opponent: Just over twenty feet. She'd never get within sword distance of him in time.

_Only one chance._

In one motion, she dropped the sword in her right hand and pulled one of the steak knives from her belt. She noticed the closest robed figure step out from behind the car and raise his wand in Jimmy and Rosa's direction.

Instantly Violar flung the knife. A dull thud and a choked gasp reached her ears. The figure grunted and stiffened, the knife sticking out of his right shoulder blade. He dropped his wand and staggered.

The other two robed figures turned toward the oncoming centaur and the mutant boy running by her side.

"What the hell is a centaur doing here?" one of them exclaimed.

The other enemy pointed his wand to the ground. A wave of flame gushed over a car and raced toward them, and Violar planted all four hooves and skidded to a halt as memories of Pyro scorched her brain. She cringed behind her forearms – just as Bobby raised his hands and sent a thick, snowy cloud rushing toward the flames. Steam rose into the air with a wicked _hiss_ as fire and ice collided.

Violar hastily scrambled backwards, then swept low and grabbed her fallen sword. She used the intense steam cloud for cover, breaking into a run toward a parked car and picking up speed. At the last second, Violar lifted her forelegs and jumped cleanly over the hood. The hard pavement landing jarred her legs as she came about and emerged from the ghostly clouds of steam, her silvery eyes blazing and her loose hair whipping behind her like black flames.

Fury ran hot through her blood when she spotted one of the robed figures crouching next to the hood of a large pickup truck, looking to get off a shot at Jimmy and Rosa. Baring her teeth, Violar charged toward him, both swords whirling. The enemy turned to see her charging out of the steam, and he brought up his wand. She was too late…

The robed figure flew off the ground and spun upside-down. He cursed and flailed as he hung in the air. Violar skidded to a halt, astonished.

Violar glimpsed Jimmy pointing his wand at the robed figure. The young man then raised his wand arm and brought it down. The robed figure slammed into the SUV's windshield, shattering it.

There was no time to contemplate what she'd just seen. Violar spun and looked to the remaining enemy, who cast another explosive gusher of fire at Bobby. The flames were again countered by a powerful ice blast.

_He just tried to kill Bobby._

With a low snarl, Violar galloped toward the last of their adversaries. The black-robed figure was muttering something Violar couldn't rightly hear and moving his wand as if to conjure some awful form of weaponry from the air when suddenly Violar reared up and slammed into him. He gave a startled yell as he flew sideways and landed hard on the pavement, but he instantly rolled onto his back and pointed his wand up at her with evil intent in his eyes.

Violar leapt forward. Before he could say a word, her swords flashed. She brought both blades down on him with a furious grunt and buried them in his chest. There was a shocked gasp, a soft gurgle, and then he went limp. Violar grimaced, and her expression flooded with regret as she looked away.

It was all over.

A sharp _crack _split the air. Violar tensed, thinking it was a gunshot. She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she noticed that the robed figure who had smashed through the SUV's windshield had disappeared.

"C'mon!" Rosa shouted as she and Jimmy ran toward the enemy with the knife in his back. "Don't let him get—"

The wounded enemy simply vanished with a loud _crack!_

Violar pursed her lips into a thin line and yanked her swords free of the dead man's chest. The escape of their unknown assailants was somehow infuriating – and frustrating beyond words.

"Dammit!" Jimmy swore. He stood a few feet away, scowling, his shoulders rising and falling in angry breaths. "We had 'em! We friggin' had 'em!"

"Did they know we were here?" Rosa asked him. "Merlin's beard, I can't believe they were this brazen."

Violar looked at them, wary resignation in her eyes. So many things Jimmy and Rosa said made no sense. But she would demand answers later.

Jimmy glanced her way and completely froze. She noticed the whites of his eyes blaze in the dark. Violar tuned out the crackling of flames and the stench of smoke around her, and she lowered her head. It was bad enough, being in her centaur form in the middle of an IHOP parking lot: This world wasn't fond of mutants. But transforming in front of someone whom she'd gotten to know, however briefly over the past couple of days, was another story. Violar hadn't had the luxury of time to break the news gently, and she had no idea what he was thinking.

_Not that it matters…_

Biting her lip, she straightened up and slowly clopped over to Jimmy and Rosa. Bobby followed in her wake and stopped beside her. The four stared at each other in a silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Finally, Jimmy took a breath and spoke. "Um, so I guess we all got some explaining to do, huh?"

Violar breathed a sigh – of relief, oddly enough – and merely nodded.

"I'll say." Bobby's face stiffened. "Who were those guys? Why were they attacking us? Were they mutants? Are you two mutants?"

Violar had taken to looking around in watchful concern. She didn't like being in the middle of a parking lot, exposed and unprotected while delving into a serious conversation – even one that was, at last, giving her the answers she sought.

Jimmy looked at Rosa, who sighed and lowered her head. He slowly worked his jaw back and forth before turning back to Bobby. "All right, I'm probably about to violate some major laws here, but I guess after what just happened . . ." Jimmy took another breath before continuing. "We're not mutants, Bobby. That boarding school I go to, well, it's a school that teaches magic. I'm really a wizard, and Rosa's a witch."

Violar's whole body stiffened. Her ears twitched, then flattened backwards, and she glared at Jimmy and Rosa.

"A wizard," she repeated in a low tone, pinning Jimmy with a sharp stare. She switched her glare to Rosa. "And a witch. Rather pleasant company we've been keeping these days. If we didn't owe you our lives, I would strike you down where you stand."

Jimmy tensed, as did Rosa. Violar noticed the grips on their wands tighten. Instinctively she tightened the grip on her swords as adrenaline coursed hot through her blood, fueled by the hostility in her Danger Sense.

Bobby placed a quelling hand on her golden shoulder, but the centaur clenched her jaw with a short shake of her head and turned her back on the small group. She clopped stiffly to the nearest IHOP flowerbed full of petunias and pansies, and she plunged her swords fiercely into the mulch – once, twice, three times – until her blades came up clean. But she was still irritated, and her white tail snapped like a whip against her flanks.

"Um, by the way, you're welcome," said Jimmy, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"For what?" Violar whipped her head around, a savage silvery gaze fixed on the young wizard. "For destroying this restaurant and putting innocent people in grave danger? Those three assassins were clearly friends of yours. They wouldn't have been here if it weren't for you, and you know it." She stepped closer to Jimmy and Rosa, her challenging stare boring into them both.

"Friends of ours?" Rage flared in Rosa's eyes. "Most of my family fought those scum during The Big War. Don't you dare call them our friends, unless you want me to use a Shredding Curse on your tongue."

"Don't you dare threaten me!" Violar took a bold warrior's step forward. Both Rosa and Jimmy tensed as she continued. "Maybe next time you accompany your friends to dinner, you could warn them about the dangers first. You _knew_ something about this before it happened. I heard you talking earlier in the arena, and it's all beginning to make sense now. Don't deny foreknowledge of this attack."

"Oh yeah, we really knew that a bunch of Death Eaters were gonna attack a Muggle restaurant," Rosa shot back.

"What did you hear back at the arena?" Jimmy demanded.

Violar switched her glower to him, a scowl darkening her features and her silvery eyes glittering. "You kept saying 'this world,' as though you weren't from here. You talked about things going on in your world. Is this what you meant? Some kind of war. A war you brought here with you. A war that endangered innocent people, and my friends!"

"Hey!" Rosa stomped forward, standing barely four feet from Violar. Human – correction, _witch – _and centaur locked glares. "You wanna blame someone for all this, blame the damn Death Eaters. Not us!"

Violar drew herself up to her full height, towering over Rosa. The witch was not intimidated in the least.

Bobby cleared his throat, as if that would help ease the tension in the air.

"Who did you say those guys were who attacked us?"

"Death Eaters," Rosa clipped, never taking her eyes from Violar. "They had to be."

Jimmy eyed the centaur with a combination of caution and disbelief as she remained locked in a posturing standoff with Rosa. Neither would back down. But the centaur said nothing as she listened to the bizarre revelations.

"Death Eaters?" Bobby made a face. "Seriously? That sounds like the name of some bad metal band."

"Trust me, man. There's nothing funny about them," Jimmy said. "Think about the Nazi SS from World War II, and imagine what they'd be like if they could use magic."

That comparison meant almost nothing to Violar, and she stared at Jimmy with a blank glower. But the statement had a profound effect on Bobby, who shook his head. "Whoa. Yeah, definitely not your typical metal band. They were out to smash more than guitars tonight."

"Our attackers were obviously soldiers," Violar interjected tersely. "They were here on orders. My guess? They serve a deadly master who sent them here tonight for a reason." Her gaze leveled on Jimmy. "You know who did it – and why. Out with it."

"Well yeah, You-Know-You did it," Jimmy snapped. "Maybe he didn't order this personally. More likely it was one of his chief flunkies in this country."

The furrows in Violar's brow deepened, adding confusion to anger. Jimmy spoke as if "You-Know-Who" were a real person, and she had no idea what "chief flunkies" were. Before she could answer, Rosa beat her to the punch.

"What I want to know," Rosa demanded, "is why a centaur is running around the Muggle World disguised as a human? And why are you so far away from your colony in Montana? Did the other centaurs kick you out or something?"

Violar flinched and caught her breath. Half of Rosa's comments struck home.

"Listen, _witch,"_ Violar said the word like a curse – which, to her, it was. "I'm not from Montana, and I have no idea what this 'Muggle World' you keep talking about is. Maybe I should ask you why a wizard and a witch are associating with humans, keeping your powers a secret until now."

Rosa glowered at Violar. Jimmy took a slow breath, as if contemplating what to say next.

A series of cracks split the air.

"Not again." Instantly alert, Violar raised her swords and swung into line beside Jimmy and Rosa. Despite her mistrust, she was ready to fight beside them. Bobby brought up both hands, while Jimmy and Rosa raised their wands.

Four figures stood on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. One was a slender woman with long dark hair. The others three were men – one tall and stout with a goatee, another dressed in thick silver and blue robes with a snow white beard that cascaded past to his stomach. Violar didn't recognize any of them.

She did recognize the fourth member of the group, who sat in a wheelchair next to the old man. She gasped in surprise at the sight of Professor Charles Xavier.


	6. Allies And Enemies

"Professor?"

"Headmaster?"

"Mom? Dad?"

The words flew from the mouths of Violar, Jimmy and Rosa at the same time. The centaur stared at the newcomers in shock, gripping the hilts of her unsheathed swords more tightly. But Professor Xavier was with the small delegation. That would have made the three strangers seem non-threatening – except that all three of them held wands, confirming what her tingling Danger Sense told her.

More wizards.

The _last_ thing they needed was more wizards.

Dumbfounded and rooted to the spot, Violar's confused stare riveted on the Professor. But before she could say anything…

"Is everyone all right?" asked the Professor.

"Yeah. We're fine," Bobby said, while Violar's mouth still hung open in shock, her mind refusing to accept the sight of Professor Xavier willingly in the presence of three magic wielders.

"Rosa. Jimmy." The slender, dark-haired woman hurried over to Rosa, the man with the goatee behind her.

"I'm fine, Mom," said Rosa as both her parents hugged her. Mrs. Infante then went over and embraced Jimmy. "Thank Merlin you're both okay."

Violar couldn't help watching them, and her orphaned heart gave a fierce tug at the sight of such sincere family affection between Rosa and her parents – and Jimmy had clearly been included in the family reunion. She swallowed hard at a knot in her throat, and the swords in her hands trembled.

_They're magic wielders,_ Violar reminded herself sternly. _Enemies of Aslan. They're not to be trusted._

But her longing gaze never left the scene.

"How did you know we were here?" Jimmy asked once Mrs. Infante let go of him.

"The Magical Trace Office," stated the man who Violar presumed was Rosa's father. "They detected two underage wizards using magic at this location."

"Whoa!" Jimmy held up both hands. "I know about the Decree for Underage Magic. We can use magic in matters of life and death to us and Muggles. That's what we did."

"We know that, Jimmy." Mr. Infante clasped his shoulder. "You're not in trouble, and neither is Rosa."

That jolted Violar out of her frozen state.

"It's very nice that they're not in trouble." Violar nodded grimly at Jimmy and Rosa. "But we can't say the same for the people in there." She jerked her head toward the IHOP. "The people who were injured because of your magic – and because of the enemies you brought here with you."

"Violar . . ." The Professor held up a calming hand.

"Hey!" Jimmy spun around, the skin around his nose scrunched in anger. Had Violar not been in her centaur form at that moment, his glare would have knocked her back a step. "It wasn't our magic that did this. It was the damn Death Eaters! So quit lumping us in with those scumbags."

Violar bit the inside of her cheek. Heat swept over her face, and her two hearts were hammering with adrenaline. She had a lot more to say, but the Professor's word held her in check – for the moment. Her protective instincts jarred loose, and she glowered at Jimmy – never taking her icy silver stare from him as she walked slowly toward Professor Xavier and took her place by his side. There were far too many wizards around for her liking, and she didn't know who to trust… or how to feel. She wanted to be ready in case Professor Xavier found himself in danger.

The regal way Violar straightened up beside the Professor, with her sword points aimed firmly at the ground and her steady glare fixed on the young wizard, told Jimmy without words: _You hurt him, and you're dead._

Before they could argue further, the ancient wizard spoke. "Adelaide. Cesario. See to the Muggles inside the restaurant. Treat them best you can."

"Yes, Headmaster." Cesario Infante nodded. "But we only know general healing spells. The best we can do is stabilize them until the Muggle medicine people get here."

"There must be at least twenty people inside the restaurant." Adelaide Infante stared through the shattered windows into the IHOP. "We're going to need some time to modify their memories. We can make them think this was just a vehicle accident."

A startled cry broke from Violar. "Modify their memories!" A shudder swept through her golden body. "How dare you! That's… this is an outrage."

Cesario turned to her, his lips tightening. He sighed, his gaze lowering for a moment. "It's regrettable, centaur, but necessary to preserve the secrecy of our world. It's far better if they don't know. This is for their safety as well as ours."

"What?" Violar gasped. She took a quick, threatening step towards the Infantes, as if she meant to physically block the door. "Far better if they don't know the truth? That wizards and, and… and… other magic wielders live among them?" She drew a shaky breath, her horrified glance darting between Mr. and Mrs. Infante. "Safer for you, maybe. Safer for you if they can't defend themselves against your kind!"

Both the Infantes stiffened. Violar noticed their hands flexing around their wands. In her peripheral vision, she spotted Rosa inching toward her, Jimmy just a step or two behind her. Violar's Danger Sense buzzed like a hornet's nest. Four-on-one odds were not desirable when facing wizards.

_Not four on one. _She had the Professor and Bobby. She had no doubt they would come to her aid should these wizards attack.

Violar took a breath, her arms tensing, ready to bring up her swords.

"Violar," Professor Xavier's voice echoed inside her head. "Please let them do this. None of the people in there will be harmed. Trust me. I'll explain everything to you soon."

Violar's mouth dropped open in shock. A chill pierced through her as she stared at the Professor in disbelief, then shot a quick glare at the Infantes. "Professor, please," she breathed. "Don't let them do this. You don't know what these people are capable of."

"I know more than you think I do, Violar," answered the Professor's thoughts confidently. "There will be time for discussion later. Trust me. Let them go."

Violar's forehead wrinkled, and she took a step backwards – then another. Her large eyes turned a nervous shade of gray, and she whisked her tail uneasily, not knowing what to think. Her breaths came too quickly. She looked from one face to another, trying to decide who to trust – and nothing frightened the centaur more than not knowing who were friends and who were enemies.

The only one she could trust was Professor Xavier. He watched her, radiating calm and steady patience. He didn't know what he was asking of her – but he was still asking.

Violar abruptly lowered her eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod. She didn't have a choice. The Infantes exchanged glances, then disappeared inside IHOP.

"Where are Kitty and Rogue?" the Professor asked.

"They're still in the restaurant," Bobby told him. "Taking care of the wounded."

"Good. Please do me a favor a fetch them."

Bobby nodded and hurried back to the restaurant.

Violar slowly returned to the Professor's side and stood there, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. Her stomachs were in knots, and – even though it was impossible – she tried to watch everyone at once. Her Danger Sense was a tangled mess, as were her thoughts. Then she glanced at the Professor, wondering what she should say.

The old wizard, however, proved quicker with his tongue. "Death Eaters?" He stared at Jimmy and Rosa as he asked this.

"They had to be," Jimmy said.

"How many?"

"Three." This time Rosa answered. "Two of them got away. The third one, well, the centaur made sure he wouldn't be going anywhere."

Violar tightened her jaw with a grimace at the coldness in Rosa's tone when she mentioned Violar's heritage. But the harsher barb in Violar's heart was the fact that she'd killed one of their of the unknown assailants.

The old wizard - Headmaster they called him – shuffled over to the body of the dead black-clad man. He studied the corpse for a few moments.

"Hmm. Double sword wounds to the chest. It most likely killed him instantly."

The Headmaster turned and eyed Violar. She instantly avoided his gaze and stared at the pavement in shame and regret – until Dumbledore approached her. Violar's silvery eyes flashed in warning and her whole body tensed, but she didn't move as the old wizard came closer. She looked directly into his blue eyes, searching for the faintest hint of malice.

All she found was a childlike curiosity and a knowing twinkle in his bright gaze that unsettled her further. She held her ground resolutely, though she looked as if she wanted to bolt.

"You're not a centaur native to this world," the Headmaster noted. "If I had to guess, I'd say you're from Narnia."

Real fear flashed in her eyes, followed swiftly by anger. "How… how do you know about _Narnia?_"_ Is it because of me? Have I somehow betrayed my country?_

"Where the heck is Narnia?" A puzzled look came over Jimmy face.

"Narnia exists in another dimension, Jimmy," the Headmaster told him. "Quite a lovely place, really, filled with very interesting creatures. I say, you wouldn't happen to know a pair of talkative beavers now, would you? I encountered them the last time I explored your world."

Speechless, the centaur stared at him. The "last time" he'd visited her world? How long had he been there? Was he a threat? Was he spying on the Narnians, or working for the groups of neevils who still followed the White Witch? Cold terror closed around her stomach and her mouth went dry. She didn't know how to answer. She didn't want to give away anything about Narnia or its inhabitants, but what could she give away that this Headmaster fellow hadn't already discovered for himself?

_I… I have to find a way to warn King Peter._

"How… how do you know each other?" deflected Violar, directing her question at Professor Xavier. Out the corner of her eye, Violar noticed Bobby, Kitty and Marie jogging toward them.

"Don't worry, Violar. Headmaster Dumbledore here is an old friend of mine, as are the Infantes."

"Whoa!" Jimmy whipped around to Rosa. "Your parents know Charles Xavier?"

Rosa shrugged. "They never mentioned that name to me. Is he someone famous?"

"Um, yeah. He's like the world's leading expert on mutants."

"Professor." Violar's low, trembling tone sharpened. "We need to talk . . ."

Her words trailed off as sirens wailed in the night. Red and blue lights flashed down the street, headed toward them. A shiver ran along the centaur's spine: She hated sirens; they reminded her of the awful night when St. John Allerdyce, alias Pyro, had robbed a Chinese restaurant and set them both on the run from the law.

"Looks like we're about to have company," Jimmy said.

"Ah. The Muggle authorities. Well, once Adelaide and Cesario finish their task, I'm sure the Muggles can take care of their own just fine. Now quickly." Dumbledore waved all of them to come closer. "Gather round and hold hands. We must be away."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Violar blurted. She noticed the other three X-Men looking hesitant.

"Everyone," the Professor spoke inside her head, and probably in the heads of the others as well. "Please, we do not have time to waste. Headmaster Dumbledore will not harm any of you. If you have ever teleported with Nightcrawler, this will be no different."

Bobby, Kitty, and Marie immediately stepped into the circle and grasped hands with each other and with the wizards.

_But… but Kurt's a follower of Aslan!_ Violar argued in silent desperation.

"Violar." The Professor's thoughts switched solely to her. "There's no time. Take the young wizard's hand, now."

Violar glanced over her shoulder at the emergency vehicles that appeared around the corner, sirens wailing at increasing volume. A shudder ran through the centaur as she stepped closer, then leaned down and grabbed the hand of the person next to her – Jimmy O'Bannon himself. She caught his unsure, mistrustful stare. Violar's own eyes mirrored wary uncertainty, the haunted look of betrayal – and a strange, painful sadness.

_Crack!_

Blackness swallowed the parking lot. Violar felt her body pulled in a thousand directions. She opened her mouth to scream, but the air was stolen out of her lungs by a fierce wind.

She blinked. Suddenly they were standing in the middle of Professor Xavier's office. Hastily the centaur released Jimmy's hand and stumbled backwards, shaking all over and jerkily snapping her tail.

"You guys can teleport, too?" Kitty asked.

"Actually," Jimmy answered. "We call it Apparating."

"Whatever it is, it's cool." Marie grinned wide. "We'all gotta do that again."

Abruptly, Violar dropped her swords with a loud clatter and covered her face with her hands, her fingertips digging into her scalp as if to keep her brain from exploding. She drew several breaths, trying to rein in her wild instincts and bring herself under control.

Just as suddenly, Violar dropped her hands and rounded on the Professor, frustrated and confused beyond the limit of her endurance.

"Professor, please. You have to tell me what's going on."

Xavier didn't seem surprised by her outburst. "Albus Dumbledore is the headmaster of a magical school in England called Hogwarts. Cesario and Adelaide Infante, Rosa's parents, work for the American Department of Magic as aurors."

"What are those?" asked Kitty.

"They're like a combination police force and National Guard," Jimmy told her.

Kitty smiled at Jimmy – too brightly, Violar thought. "Cool!"

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Charles here learned of the existence of the Wizarding World many years ago. We sent someone to modify his memory, but given his mental powers, even our most powerful magic was unable to affect him. Fortunately, it worked out rather well. Charles has kept his knowledge of our world secret, and even helped us in our first war with Lord Voldemort."

Rosa visibly shivered. Jimmy grimaced.

"Lord Voldemort? Seriously, y'all?" Marie giggled. "What sort of a dumb name is that?"

Rosa's head whipped toward Marie. "You wouldn't be laughing if you knew the things he did."

Jimmy's face also hardened as he stared at Marie. She winced, and her laughter ceased immediately.

"Many years ago," Dumbledore began, "Lord Voldemort raised an army to conquer the Wizarding World and rid it of all those he considered undesirables, particularly Muggle-borns who, like Jimmy here, are wizards and witches born of non-magical parents. Voldemort was defeated sixteen years ago, but not killed. Now he is back, taking his time to gather his forces. Still, his followers are striking here and there – not just in our world, but the Muggle World as well. And one of their targets is mutants."

"Mutants," Violar repeated slowly. "So… wait. They were after… us, not… not them." She moved her chin slightly in the direction of Jimmy and Rosa. She tried to keep up with her own thoughts as they raced ahead of her comprehension. "So you're saying that… they would have found us… and killed us… just because we're… mutants. And that… if it hadn't been for… t-timely intervention…" Her brow furrowed and her bewildered gaze went blank. She thought of the pink rubber bouncy ball that had rested harmlessly in her palm – the result of Jimmy and Rosa's quick action when a red car raced toward the restaurant to finish what the black SUV had started.

_They tried to kill us._

Bobby, Kitty and Marie looked concerned – as if they'd already arrived at the same conclusion.

"But why us?" Marie asked.

"Probably the same reason all the other anti-mutant wingnuts want to see us dead," Bobby said, folding his arms across his chest. "They're scared of us because of our powers."

"Exactly, Mister Drake." Dumbledore jabbed a finger at him. "You are a threat to Voldemort's plans. In fact, he views you the same way he does Muggle-borns. That you, too, have stolen powers from pureblood witches and wizards to wield as your own."

Warning bells went off in Violar's head. How did Dumbledore know Bobby's last name?

"Aw jeez, you gotta be kidding me." Jimmy shook his head. "You-Know-Who really thinks mutants and Muggle-borns are one in the same?"

"What?" Rosa turned to him. "You expect rational thought from a lunatic?"

"I was meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore," Professor Xavier began, "to see how we can aid the Wizarding World in their battle against Lord Voldemort, and protect ourselves, and all mutants, from further attacks by his followers."

All of a sudden, something else occurred to the centaur. Her soul flooded with dread, and a spark of suspicion glittered in her silvery eyes as she looked from Dumbledore to Jimmy and Rosa. She took a step away from them, leaning slowly toward the floor to collect her fallen swords.

Part of her wanted to pull Professor Xavier aside and speak with him in private, but there was no time. She couldn't leave these three wizards alone. She had just one chance to expose them…

"Well, I commend you all," she declared, stepping forward with a greater boldness. Her gray eyes went dark as she stared from one wizard to another. "Very well played, all of you. But you can cease the charade now."

Jimmy's face scrunched up. "Huh?"

Rosa looked just as perplexed.

Dumbledore tilted his head and gave Violar a curious gaze. "I beg your pardon."

The centaur gave a mirthless smile. "It was very clever, trying to win our trust with a few magician's tricks and supposedly saving our lives. No real harm was done at that restaurant, memories were erased, and life goes on. Now you all look like heroes and we, oh yes, we common mortals and 'Muggles' are forever in your debt."

The bewilderment on the faces of the wizards grew more pronounced.

"Merlin's beard, are you on crack?" Jimmy asked.

Violar blinked, caught between a scowl and a look of utter confusion.

"Violar," said the Professor in a low tone. "I think that's enough."

She whirled on him, her eyes dark and her jaw set. "Don't you see it, Professor? This devious game is almost childishly simple. How do we know these three are telling the truth?" She twitched a blade in Jimmy's direction. He tensed, clenching his wand. "How can we even be sure that the attack on the IHOP tonight wasn't an illusion, orchestrated to manipulate our trust and our loyalty? For all we know, this Lord Voldemort – if he even exists – is the leader of a world being persecuted mercilessly by these magic wielders. Maybe all these people want is another army to fight down a rebellion. If we join these people, we could be fighting _for the wrong side_."

Xavier's eyebrows rose. "Violar, your accusations are unwarranted."

The centaur's eyes flashed. "From the moment you appeared outside that restaurant, you've defended these people. How…" A tremor shook her voice. "How do I know you are really Professor Xavier, and not part of the game?"

The Professor, who'd always impressed Violar with his stoic manner, widened his eyes in shock. It just made her Danger Sense flare. Could that be evidence that this was not the real Charles Xavier?

"My dear." Dumbledore raised a hand. "There is a way to prove that this is indeed Professor Charles Xavier. Ask him a question, a question that only the two of you would know. That is what many of us who opposed Voldemort in the first war did to prove we were the genuine article."

Violar scowled at Dumbledore, but his advice made sense. She lapsed into momentary thought, sent a wry glance at Dumbledore, then grudgingly nodded. "Very well. What game were the mutant children playing during our first conversation?"

The Professor's eyes shifted to one side – a look that Violar knew to be the common facial expression of someone recalling a real memory. "Mutant tag," he answered quietly. "At recess."

"What was the subject matter of your lecture, which you asked us all to write a paper about?" continued the centaur.

Again, Professor Xavier's eyes shifted. "The ethical soundness of my decision to transfer my consciousness into the body of a mentally crippled man." A faint smile touched his lips when he looked at the centaur. "There was no right answer."

Violar subsided, eying him warily. "You truly are Professor Xavier, then. But how am I to know that your mind hasn't been tampered with? I know what they said," she added when Xavier opened his mouth to contradict her. "Your powers wouldn't allow them to conveniently erase your memories. But dark magic can still be used as… an influence… on strong minds."

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Rosa rolled her eyes. "You're just determined to not trust us, aren't you? We went out there and took on three Death Eaters, and Jimmy and I aren't even aurors. If saving your stupid centaur hide isn't enough to convince you we're not evil, what the heck will?"

"I am not stupid, young one." Violar glowered at her. "Or are you angry because you can't simply wave your wand and force me to agree with you? Because your magic doesn't work on me? I heard you say as much outside the restaurant, right before that… that car thing slammed into the wall."

"We're not in the habit of forcing people to agree with us," Rosa said sharply.

"No, but you are in the habit of erasing people's memories of you."

"Vi." Bobby stepped closer to her and laid a gentle hand on her palomino shoulder, his voice carefully modulated to a calming tone. "I know you told us you had a lot of bad experiences with wizards and witches in Narnia, but even this is a stretch. The Professor's the most powerful telepath on the planet. Do you really think there's anyone out there who could mess with his mind?"

With a heavy sigh, Violar looked grimly at Professor Xavier. "I don't know." Worry crept into her tone. "I really don't know. But I… I have heard stories of evil wizards who influenced kings. There's another world… one called Middle-earth. A wizard named Grima Wormtongue aged a king beyond his time and nearly destroyed an entire kingdom until the spell was broken, by…"

A light went on in the centaur's mind, though she cut herself off before she could add, _By another wizard._ Gandalf the Grey had called himself a wizard, though – from what Violar had heard of him – she thought the term should not have been applied to Gandalf. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at Dumbledore. As if he knew what she was thinking, Dumbledore smiled back at her.

_No… no. That's not possible. True "good wizards" don't exist._

"All that aside…" Violar turned back to Bobby. "Jimmy claimed to be your friend, but he never told you he was a wizard."

"In all fairness," Jimmy spoke up. "I learned I was a wizard after me and Bobby stopped playing hockey together."

Violar set her jaw and silently searched each face in the room. Bobby, Kitty and Marie were gazing back at Violar in doubtful uncertainty. Jimmy and Rosa fixed her with hard gazes. Dumbledore continued smiling at her with genuine admiration.

That perplexed the centaur further. She wrinkled her nose at him, then drew a breath and addressed her friends in a reasonable tone. "All I'm asking is that you consider the possibility that what I'm saying is right. I have magic wielders in my world. They are all dangerous." Violar swallowed hard, the muscles along her jaw tightening. "Never, even once, in the history of my world has there been a magic wielder on Aslan's side. They turned from him – and in addition to choosing sides, they are all power-hungry, self-serving, and dictatorial. They have bloody struggles within their own borders for power. They enslave each other, and they would do the same to us if we stood idly by and allowed it. My… my people are forced to fight them off constantly, just to keep N-Narnia from being overrun. I've lost friends…" Violar's lips trembled, and she hardened her expression, though her silvery eyes were glistening. "I _know_ magic wielders, Professor. Believe me, I know them. Siding with them is a mistake."

"My dear," Dumbledore said calmly. "As I said, I have traveled through your world before. Merely as a curious visitor, to just broaden my knowledge of the universes around us. And from what I learned of Narnia's history, I can understand your distrust of anyone who uses magic. Because of that, I fear no words that I say can convince you of our sincerity. Perhaps, if we show you the Wizarding World here on Earth . . ."

"Absolutely not," Violar cut him off. "I will do nothing of the sort."

"Vi, c'mon." Marie's expression grew serious. "If ya like, we'll all go with ya to this Wizardin' World. Ah think it'd be pretty cool."

"There will be nothing 'cool' about it, Marie," Violar snapped. "If we follow them into their world, we will be in their territory, no doubt outnumbered beyond measure. We will be completely at their mercy."

"Vi, listen ta yerself." Marie's voice took on a pleading tone. "The same thing ye're sayin' about these here wizards is the same way all those mutant haters out there talk about _us."_

An incredulous gasp choked the centaur. "This is a completely different situation, Marie. I can't believe you'd even try to equate this – to equate me with… with mutant haters."

Even as she spoke, a frozen spear of betrayal pierced through Violar's stomachs. Marie had called Violar the equivalent of a mutant hater. Professor Xavier hadn't budged from his position, despite her impassioned arguments. If he doubted her word, he could have found all the evidence he needed to back up her stories if he merely rifled through a few of her memories. Bobby had even tried to persuade her to be reasonable – with magic wielders, of all things. Kitty's wide-eyed gaze darted from one speaker to the next, and although she said nothing, the expression on her face when she looked at Violar – coupled with the feelings that swirled through Violar's Danger Sense – told the centaur whose side Kitty was on.

And it wasn't hers.

_Has everyone gone mad? Completely stark raving mad?_

_Or are they under the influence of dark magic?_

Violar spun to face Jimmy and Rosa, her hooves clomping against the wooden floor of Xavier's office. "You say you weren't responsible for sending those… those creatures you call Death Eaters here. Prove it."

Rosa huffed. "And just how are we supposed to do that? The one person who probably could have changed your mind was the Death Eater that didn't get away. Except you killed him. Even wizarding folk can't bring back the dead."

"Well, actually we can," Jimmy chimed in. "In a way. We do have Inferi, which are basically the Wizarding World's version of zombies."

Violar paled. "You mean specters? We… I've seen those." The centaur visibly shivered. "Horrible creatures – eternally undead. They spy for Ettinsmoor, and there's nothing we can do to stop them." Deeper furrows dug into Violar's brow as she glared at Jimmy. "And you have the power to _create_ them?"

Jimmy grimaced and turned to Rosa. "I guess that little tidbit of information didn't help any, did it?"

Rosa snorted and just glared at him.

"You find this humorous?" Violar felt her cheeks flush scarlet as Jimmy glanced back at her_. _"Raising the dead? It is an affront to Aslan – an affront to nature itself! You use your power for something so . . . blasphemous, so twisted and evil, and you wonder why I don't trust you wizards?"

"Only dark wizards and witches do that." Rosa's eyes narrowed at Violar. "_We_ don't do it. We find the idea of Inferi abhorrent."

"So you say." Violar's eyes flared with intensity as she glared at Rosa. "But you yourself threatened to use something called a—a Shredding Curse on my tongue." Violar grimaced, then scowled. "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant. And you say you're on _my_ side?"

Rosa shook her head and glanced at the ceiling. "I just said it because I was pissed at you. I wouldn't really have done it."

"In other words, it was a lie," stated Violar coldly. "Or so you say. Where I come from, such threats are neither given nor taken lightly. I saw the look on your face. Had I pushed you further, I highly doubt you would have hesitated to use your ill-gotten powers. Like all dark magic wielders, you have no restraints in regards to causing suffering to further your own self-serving purposes."

Rosa threw her arms out to her side. She whipped her head toward Dumbledore. "Why are we wasting our time with her, Professor? Seems like whether they're from this world or Narnia, centaurs are the same. They all hate magical folk."

"The witches and wizards I have encountered have given me reason to feel that way," Violar interrupted, "with your lust for power and your enjoyment of torturing others and the way you kill without a second thought, controlled only by the dark magic you wield—"

"That's it!" Rosa shouted. "I've had it with you calling me dark!"

The witch stomped toward her. Violar's breath froze in her lungs when she saw Rosa's wand start to come up, but her eyes flared with silvery fire.

"You dare challenge me, witch?" Violar brought up both her swords.

"Violar, stop!" Professor Xavier commanded.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

A scarlet beam shot from Jimmy's wand. Violar gasped as both her swords flew from her hands and slammed against the wall.

That's when all hell broke loose.

A jet of ice gushed from Bobby's hand. Jimmy yelped as a solid block of ice formed over his right hand and wand.

Violar whirled on her forefeet and aimed a hind kick at Rosa, which the athletic girl dodged. Rosa straightened and pointed her wand at Violar, but before she could say a word, Kitty raced across the room and charged at the young witch. Marie followed, tearing off her right glove.

"_Stupefy!"_

Fear gripped Violar as a red bolt flew from Rosa's wand straight at Kitty. The mutant girl phased. The bolt passed through her body, just missed Marie, and struck the wall, causing no damage.

Shock registered on Rosa's face for a moment. It was all Kitty needed. She jumped on the witch, wrapping both hands around Rosa's wand hand.

Bobby and Marie went after Jimmy. The wizard gripped his right forearm with his left hand, looking like he was about to swing his ice-coated hand like a club.

Violar reared up on her hind legs, ready to come down on one of the wizards.

"ENOUGH!"

The thunderous voice literally shook the office. Violar lurched in shock and nearly fell on her side with her pointed ears pinned flat against her dark hair, but she splayed her legs and awkwardly regained her balance. The mutant and magical teens all pressed their hands over their ears and gritted their teeth. To Violar's right, Dumbledore held the tip of his wand to his throat. He lowered it and turned to the Professor, who also rubbed his ears. "My apologies, Charles."

"Quite all right, Albus." Xavier stared briefly at Jimmy's ice-encased forearm until suddenly the ice shattered, releasing him. Then Xavier pressed his fingertips together with a grave expression. "Violar, if you make one more unprovoked move towards our guests, you will leave me with no choice but to restrain you. I will not host a war in my office."

Violar's blood ran cold. She knew the Professor was capable of gripping a person's mind so tightly that they were physically unable to move, but he'd never threatened to use that ability on her before. The idea of being incapacitated against her will frightened her clear through, and she stared at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe what she'd just heard.

The Professor's steady gaze moved to each young person in the room. "Each of you has had enough battle experience to understand the divisive tactics of the enemy. Lord Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters will have little opposition if we persist in fighting each other. When you fight against each other, you fight _for_ Lord Voldemort himself. If we are to have a chance of winning this war, we must remain united. We need to work together, to—"

"Professor." As a rule, Violar never interrupted the Professor. Even now, she stared at the floor and spoke quietly, looking ashamed of herself for breaking protocol as she rubbed one of her ringing ears. "With all due respect, I cannot and _will_ not offer any allegiance or assistance of any kind to these… wizards." She spoke the name as if it were distasteful in her mouth. "It goes against my conscience – against every fiber of my being. I will not… dishonor… the memory of the Narnians who have perished in the fight against magic wielders." Muscles rippled throughout the centaur's golden coat, and her free hand tightened into a fist, as if she were holding back an ocean of powerful emotions. "I pledged my sword to you, but I beg you to have the decency _not_ to command this of me."

Silence fell. At length Violar lifted her eyes to Professor Xavier and found him regarding her with an unreadable expression. But her Danger Sense felt one thing from him, loud and clear: Disappointment.

Violar's heart twisted. That was nearly too much to bear from the man she considered a mentor, a friend – and, in some ways, almost like a father.

"I command no one to fight this battle," said Xavier at last. He leaned forward in his wheelchair. "But if you would look past your preconceived notions, Violar, you would see that not all those who reside in the Wizarding World are our enemies – or yours. Months ago, you told me of your wish to fight injustice. Now, when that opportunity arrives, you've let your limited experience keep you from an understanding."

Violar winced, stung. "With respect again, Professor, neither my experience nor my understanding are lacking. I resent, however, that this altercation has turned me into the enemy." She stared at him in silent challenge.

Something in the Professor's eyes softened. "You are not the enemy, Violar. But neither are they." He nodded at Headmaster Dumbledore. "I know this is hard for you, but I would ask that you give this matter serious consideration before you come to a decision."

Violar clenched her jaw, unmoved. "There is nothing for me to consider, Professor. I will never align myself with magic wielders for any reason. Furthermore," she clipped as her eyes flashed, "I cannot fathom why you continue to defend them after the violent display you just witnessed moments ago. In addition to myself, three of your students were nearly struck by magic spells. Does that not even trouble you? Can you not see that these people possess great powers and little self-control?"

"Well excuse me for not wanting to see one of my best friends skewered." Jimmy's face tightened in anger, and Violar slowly dropped her hand from her ear as she took the full brunt of the young wizard's fury. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you what we really were, but there is something in our world called the International Statute of Secrecy, meaning we keep our existence hidden from most Muggles. Even so, ever since we ran into you guys at Quinnipiac, we've been nothing but nice to you, we tried to be friends with you. Then all of the sudden, you find out we're wizards and you hate us? Let me tell you something, being a Muggle-born, I have to put up with that crap from pureblood elitists who think people like me are garbage. Why do you think they call us Mudbloods? It means dirty blood."

He shook his head. "You know, I was actually attracted to you. Heck, I was thinking of asking you out on a date. Now I'm glad I didn't, because I see you for what you really are. You're a bigot! What makes you any different from the damn Death Eaters?"

Violar stopped breathing. She froze and paled as if she'd been struck by a dagger, and she stared at Jimmy in shock – and startled hurt. Her eyes glistened, and she blinked, swallowing hard. There were plenty of open wounds in her heart, and those words stung like salt. She didn't know what "bigot" meant, and she couldn't find the nerve to ask. She understood enough, and she knew when she'd been badly insulted.

Her desperate gaze moved from Bobby, to Marie, to Kitty, and lastly to the Professor. They were not siding with her on this. For the first time since she'd come to Xavier's Institute for the Gifted, Violar's trust in the X-Men was shaken. And for the first time, she felt like an outsider. Alone.

She drew a trembling breath and mustered what little dignity she had left. "If you will excuse me…"

_I have to get some air,_ she wanted to add. Or a more stinging remark, such as, _I see I've worn out my welcome here._

Nothing came out. Her look of hurt lingered on the Professor, and then her misty gray eyes shifted to Jimmy O'Bannon. Her expression quivered.

Suddenly she whirled, flung open the door, and slammed it after her as she fled down the hall at a full gallop – heading straight for the door that led to the back courtyard. Sobs choked her, and she struggled to breathe.

_I have to get out. I have to get out._

A shove into the back door caused the tear-blinded palomino centaur to stumble onto the stone patio into the cold February night. Gasping like a fish out of water, Violar lifted shaking hands to brush the tears out of her vision, but those tears were immediately replaced by a fresh torrent. Breaking into an unsteady trot, she nearly fell down the steps, and she made it to the gray fountain before her resolve gave out. She collapsed in the grass, folded her arms atop the low fountain ledge, and wept.

She didn't know what hurt the most – the way her adopted family had turned against her in favor of dangerous strangers, or Jimmy O'Bannon's parting words.


	7. Betrayal

Icy moonlight cascaded over the courtyard like blue pixie dust, falling on a silent forest and a quiet mansion – and a brokenhearted palomino centaur curled up against the stone fountain in the courtyard, crying miserably while the sparkling water gushed and splattered beside her. Violar kept her face buried in her arms, sobbing and sniffling.

She didn't see the dark shadow creeping across the courtyard, nor did her pointed ears detect any sound as it leapt lightly onto the edge of the fountain. It crawled stealthily toward the centaur on all fours, then slid its tail forward across the stones like a snake until it touched her elbow.

Violar jolted backwards with a cry of shock. She found herself staring into a pair of glowing yellow eyes that hovered over her in the darkness. Terror flashed over her face. Before she could scramble to her hooves and bolt, the shadow spoke.

"If ever there was a case of sorrows for gummy worms to cure, liebling, this would be it."

Violar closed her eyes. "Kurt," she breathed.

Such relief collided with the shock to her overwrought system that she swayed to one side, coming dangerously close to the fountain and looking as if she might faint. Instantly Kurt Wagner wrapped his tail around her torso to hold her upright.

"I am sorry to scare you, Violar," said the blue mutant, genuinely contrite. With the centaur's Danger Sense, he hadn't even known it was possible to catch her by surprise, and he'd hoped to cheer her up – not frighten her. He lowered his yellow eyes. "My timing for a prank was poor."

Shaking her head, Violar rubbed the tears from her eyes. "No… it's not your fault. I wasn't paying attention."

Kurt crawled two strides forward, then sat up to perch on the fountain ledge in his customary crouch. "I should have known better than to sneak up on you," he replied in his heavily accented voice.

Violar shook her head again, sniffing. "Don't worry, I'll… I'll get you back later."

Kurt's sharp teeth flashed in a broad grin at the mention of their continuing prank war. But his smile didn't last long when Violar kept her eyes averted from his, and she continued to brush tears from her cheeks. Kurt's tail twitched around her waist, and deep concern softened his yellow eyes. Did Violar resent his intrusion? She hadn't made an effort to look at him, and he recognized the way she folded into herself and kept her head lowered, her long dark hair shielding her face from view.

She was trying to hide. Kurt knew that because he'd adopted the same body language countless times over the course of his life.

But Kurt also knew that, even in the moments he'd tried to hide, he hadn't wanted to be alone.

A shudder ran through the centaur, straight through Kurt's tail, and she buried her face – and a sob – in the palm of her hand. "Kurt…"

Just as Violar reached for her choker, Kurt had already began to lift her out of the grass. She transformed into her smaller humanoid body, and Kurt picked her up and set her gently on the ledge of the fountain, maintaining his secure tail-hug around her. Violar gingerly nosed into his shoulder, as if she desperately needed the comfort of touch. He reached for one of her small hands and held it securely in his much larger three-fingered hands, then looked away to give her a little breathing room.

He waited for her tears and her sniffles to subside.

"I'm sorry," she whispered at length.

Kurt blinked his yellow eyes slowly, rubbing her smooth hand between his warm velvet fingers. With his other hand, he reached into his long green-gray jacket and withdrew a crinkling package of gummy worms. "What is troubling you, Fraulein?"

Reluctantly, Violar drew her face away from Kurt's shoulder. "If you… if you asked me what _isn't _troubling me, I could offer a shorter list."

Kurt gave an appreciative chuckle, then lifted the package and sank his sharp teeth into the plastic. Violar's eyes widened.

"Kurt, don't—"

Kurt paused with the package in his teeth, glancing at her in puzzlement. Abruptly Violar bit her lip and grimaced.

"Sorry," she muttered, wiping her cheek. "I forgot… how strong your teeth are. I'm in the habit of, of scolding the other mutants for tearing things with their teeth."

Kurt grinned around the plastic, gripped the bag between two claws, and jerked his neck. The plastic tore smoothly.

"Ja, liebling. Gott knew what he was doing, giving me these teeth." He handed Violar the package. "Here."

Withdrawing her hand from Kurt's, Violar took the gummy worms. "Th— er, danke." She set them in her lap and stared at them, making no move to eat them.

Tempted as he was to make a quip about how the gummy worms weren't still alive, Kurt chose to wait in companionable silence instead. He rested his elbows on his thighs and folded his six clawed fingers together. His tail spade, still wrapped securely around Violar, rubbed absently at her back.

Finally she spoke. "I'm considering… the possibility of… leaving the mansion, Kurt."

Kurt's head whipped around. He stared at her, hardly daring to believe his pointed ears.

"That is news," he managed as his chest tightened. His unblinking yellow eyes searched her troubled face. "But… why?"

Violar pursed her lips tightly, turning her stare to the forest and looking as if she were trying hard not to cry. After a moment, she managed to tell Kurt what had happened on that eventful evening, beginning with the trip to Connecticut and moving to the final disastrous conflict in Professor Charles Xavier's office.

"Then I came out here," Violar concluded her story with a deep sigh. Her voice trembled. "I don't know what else to do, Kurt. I mean, they're wizards, and we're – I mean, the mutants are going to join this war. I can't fight a war I don't believe in, and my arguments fell on deaf ears. What other choice do I have?"

A shadow cloaked her Danger Sense. It was so thick that Violar felt it, and she glanced sideways at Kurt in time to catch the same shadow reflected on his blue face. His tail spade stilled on her back.

Puzzled, Violar touched his shoulder. "Kurt?"

Even in the darkness, Violar saw him swallow hard. "Ja, liebling." He didn't look at her. "I respect your convictions, of course."

His tail slid away from her waist, and Kurt stepped off the fountain ledge. He paced a few steps away, his clawed hands clasped behind his back and his tail flicking uneasily. His elongated toes padded softly in the frozen winter grass.

Violar's hands tightened uncertainly around the package of gummy worms, and she tried to understand what had upset him. "Kurt, I… don't imagine that you're very happy about the war, either. But you don't have a choice in the matter, do you? You _live_ here. You're one of the X-Men. The Professor… You take your orders from him. You can't just… run away, can you? I mean, not that I'm running away. I'm not." She bit her lip.

Kurt sighed deeply. Then he turned around to face her, keeping his distance. There was a dull, wary look in his yellow eyes that Violar had never seen before.

"I do not blame you for leaving," was his soft reply. "You are a Narnian. Your wars are different from ours."

Violar's heart clenched. Setting aside the candy, she pushed herself off the fountain and came closer to him, searching his eyes. "Are you… upset with my decision, Kurt?"

Kurt stood very still. With the slightest shake of his head, he answered, "No."

Violar's brow furrowed. "You're confusing me, Kurt. Aren't you upset about the war? Doesn't the situation distress you – since you're a follower of Aslan, of God?"

Kurt pursed his lips together so that the gleam of his white teeth disappeared. He pressed a clawed hand gently against Violar's forearm.

"What distresses me, Violar, is that you may think ill of me for my decision to stay and fight."

Violar gave her head a little shake. "I don't understand, Kurt. Do you actually _want_ to fight?"

"Come, walk with me."

Violar fell into step beside him, and they made their way across the courtyard, heading slowly towards Xavier's elaborate gardens. There was a path that wound through the leaf-bare shrubs and decorative trees, and Violar knew that Kurt was taking her there. But her attention was on Kurt, not her surroundings, and worry flooded through her at the unhappy expression on his blue face.

"When I lived among the gypsies in Bavaria," Kurt began, "dark magic was… a part of our lives. An unfortunate part," he added, catching Violar's gaze with a slight grin. Then his sharp teeth vanished and he stared at the grass, as if he were concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. "Many of the gypsies I knew, growing up, practiced some form of black magic. My own foster mother was a sorceress."

Violar's silvery eyes were wide. "How awful," she whispered.

The corners of Kurt's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "I knew no different, liebling. The gypsies were good to me – as long as they didn't persecute me for looking like, well, a demon." His glowing eyes shifted away from Violar, but not before she caught a brief expression of sadness and regret on his face.

"When I chose to become a Catholic," he continued, "many of the gypsies felt I'd turned my back on them. My religion created a rift between us." His hand drifted to grasp the wooden rosary that hung from his vest. "I lost friends, ja – gypsies I had known all my life turned against me. It was not a small price to pay, though it was worth it. My foster mother…"

Kurt trailed off, and Violar clasped her hands tightly. She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know. "What did she do?"

Kurt abruptly flicked his tail around and took the spade in his hands, folding it nervously between his yellowish claws. "That is a long story," he replied at length. "It pitted us against each other, but she'd known that I'd rejected her magic a long time before I became a Christian."

Violar gulped. "Did she never… reconcile with you?"

Kurt frowned, then shrugged, dropping his tail spade. His long tail went back to snaking slowly in the air behind him.

"We reached… a compromise." He stopped in the middle of the garden and turned to face Violar, looking into her eyes. "Liebling, I have strong beliefs. I think you know this. But in my world, things are… complicated. For someone who looks like me, who lived among gypsies, things are not as… clear-cut, is I think how they say it."

Violar looked more confused then ever. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath before she looked at Kurt again. "What are you trying to say, exactly?"

Kurt lowered his gaze to the path between them, mulling over her question. "I am trying to say that… it is sometimes best to look at the heart, not the outward appearances. I was fortunate that you chose to see inside of me. I am grateful every day for that."

A little incredulous grin flickered over the centaur's face. "Kurt, that's beside the point. We're talking about people who practice black magic."

"Among gypsies, ja. Among yours and Narnia's enemies, ja." Kurt's glowing gaze came back to hers, burning with intensity. "They chose to practice black magic. But…" He nodded in the direction of Xavier's office. "These wizards may be different."

A gasp escaped Violar as she stared at Kurt. "How can you say that? Kurt," she went on, trying to sound more reasonable than she felt, "wizards _train_ in the use of black magic. Jimmy O'Bannon and Rosa Infante, up there… they were talking about how there was this whole school full of children who were training to be wizards and witches. From what I saw of Jimmy and Rosa, they're good at it. A point of a wand, a word or two, and…" Violar shuddered, remembering the way her parent's swords had been ripped from her grasp by an invisible force and slammed into the wall.

"What if they were born with it?"

Violar's mouth dropped open in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

Kurt ducked his head, though his tail whipped a little faster through the air in response to Violar's agitated tone. Then he met her fiery silver eyes again. "What if they were born with special powers?"

Violar looked even more stunned. "You mean like mutants?"

Kurt nodded solemnly.

"That's ludicrous. Kurt, really." Violar's breathing increased, and she looked as if she were trying not to be angry and upset. "You lived with the gypsies. You know what those people are capable of." Kurt nodded to both statements. "So why are you trying to defend them?"

Kurt gazed at the centaur with quiet resignation in his yellow eyes. "Not so much trying to defend them, as trying to help you see past appearances. Not all the gypsies who practiced magic were despicable."

Violar gasped again, her eyes flooded with desperate pleading and incredulity and pain. Her stomach felt like cold iron. "I can't believe you would say such a thing, Kurt Wagner."

"Liebling, I—"

"You're siding with them." Trembling, Violar took a backward step down the path, moving in the direction of the courtyard – back the way they'd come. She stared at Kurt in horrified betrayal. "This whole time, you've been pretending to be a friend – listening and understanding. Did they send you here?" Her silvery eyes flared like wildfire. "Tell me the truth, Kurt. Did the Professor send you to talk sense into me?"

It was Kurt's turn to look shocked. His jaw dropped open and his tail fell to the ground like a dead thing. "Nein, nein, Fraulein. Bitte…" He held a clawed hand toward her. "I am sorry to upset you. I did not know you were here until I saw you by the fountain. I was sent by no one. Bitte, don't go. Bitte… stay… stay and talk to me."

Violar bit her lip fiercely and stopped in the middle of the path. Her expression twitched, as if she were suddenly holding back a torrent of tears. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Kurt took a slow, hesitant step towards her. "Doing what?"

Violar's breaths shook, a scowl of agony taking hold of her features. "Devil's advocate. That's what they call it here. That's what your doing. You know where they get their power from, and still you're telling me to… to keep an open mind?"

Kurt blinked twice. His upper lip curled and bared his sharp teeth – a sure sign that her words had struck home in a painful way. "Violar… liebling," he said in a soothing tone. "They saved your life, and for that, I am… very grateful. All I ask is that you consider—"

Violar suddenly stamped her foot. "They killed my father!" she burst out, her voice shredded with anguished fury. Hot tears ran down her scowling face. "They killed him… took him away from me… just because he was a Narnian, because they hate Aslan. A month later, my mother died because… because they took him from her. Everything I had… my whole family… gone. I lost so many friends, Kurt… I heard the stories. They would hold their victims with a stun spell and pound them and pound them with other spells until they couldn't take the torment anymore… or were severely wounded… or died. Don't come any closer!"

Kurt's face was full of tortured sympathy as he stepped closer to the centaur, whose harsh sobs escaped the hand covering the lower half of her face. But he stopped, though he looked as if it killed him to stay there.

A violent sniffle escaped Violar. "I had friends… in battle… who were killed right before my eyes. One of them died just to… save my life. It happened so fast. If he hadn't… flown down like that, those spells would have hit me instead. Brandolor shouldn't have died… It should have been _me_, Kurt. It should have been _me!"_

Tears poured through her shaking fingers, and she took another step back, then another – on the verge of breaking down right in the middle of the garden path. "I'll never fight beside wizards, Kurt," she sobbed, nearly doubled over with agony and grief. "Never – never. I can't… betray them. My mother, my father, my friends… Brandolor… Narnia… Aslan. I won't do it." She moved backwards, slowly shaking her head in between wracking sobs. "I can't stay with… anyone… who is friends with them."

Each word pierced deeper into Violar's heart until she was crying too hard to see. She covered her face with both hands, and the next thing she knew, warm velvet surrounded her in a tender embrace. Violar gave in and leaned against Kurt, her body shaking with sobs.

Suddenly she pressed her hands to Kurt's chest and shoved away from him, stumbling backwards and wiping angrily at her tears. She glared at Kurt from behind a mask of agony.

"You were my friend," she accused shakily, choking out sniffles. "You were my family… you all were." With a ragged sob, she jerked her chin at the shadowed mansion. "Dark magic has… robbed me of two families, not one."

Kurt's yellow eyes were blurry. He looked as if he were ready to cry.

"Violar," he said huskily. "Bitte… we are still your family."

Violar bit hard at her lower lip, staring at Kurt through her tears. Slowly she shook her head.

"Friends of wizards… are no family of mine."

Whirling suddenly, Violar ran out of the gardens, trailing sobs and sniffles after her. She burst into the courtyard and kept on running… and kept on running…

Darkness closed around her. She was in the forest. A chill ran through the air and rippled down her spine, and Violar stopped in the midst of the shadowed trees. Whatever strength she'd had left to cry was suddenly gone.

She brushed away the last of her tears, feeling as if a giant abyss had opened up and swallowed her entire world in thick, impenetrable blackness. She could no longer remember laughter. Sunlight was a forgotten dream.

With a heavy sigh, Violar leaned against the nearest tree, feeling sapped of emotional energy down to her bones. She felt like bones. Faint horror gripped her: She'd been through this already. She'd been down this dark road. She knew what it was to exist without really living, to breathe in and out while she was dead inside.

"P-please," she heard herself whisper, closing her eyes. She shivered: She was so cold. "Not again. Please…"

The tear that streaked down her cheek felt like liquid ice. Someone called her name. With a little groan, she turned away – until she realized that it hadn't been Kurt's voice.

"Zephina!"

Violar's eyes snapped open. The dark woods were populated by ghost-like trees from the northern part of Lantern Waste.

A knot lodged in her throat. "Papa?" she whispered, terrified. Her hands clawed at the tree bark. "Papa? Where are you?"

A red bolt shot through the trees just to her right. Violar whimpered and let go of the tree.

"Run, Zephina. Run!"

She broke into a blind headlong gallop, ducking branches that hung in her path. She felt them rake her ribs and her golden flanks. Red bolts sizzled past her, and she heard the wild scream of a large cat in dying agony.

She didn't stop. Fear ran like ice through her veins, and she ran with all her might.

_I have to get away… I have to get away…_

"Papa?" she cried. "Where are you?"

"Run, Zephina! Don't look back!"

A red bolt slammed into the tree ahead of Violar, and she veered sharply, nearly twisting her fetlocks in her wild scramble to get away. The dark magic wielders were all around, pursuing her. She gasped at the chilling howl too close to her left side – a werewolf on the hunt.

Violar suddenly skidded to a halt on the edge of a sheer rocky drop. She choked back a scream as she looked down at a dizzying cliff that led straight into a black ravine. Her hearts pounded until they felt as if they'd explode. She was trapped.

_Unless I can get to the other side…_

It was a long jump, but it didn't matter. Violar was not about to let them catch her. Driven by sheer fright, Violar scrambled backwards several yards – then broke into a full gallop for the ledge. At the final second, she planted her hooves and leapt, soaring through the midnight air…

Something struck her in the fetlock. Violar screamed and crashed to the ground on the other side of the ravine, rolling through the dirt and thorny underbrush until she lay on her side, panting heavily. Fiery bolts of pain shot through her leg, and she reached down to grip her injured ankle. The bone felt as if it were broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth and writhed, and she mashed her face into the ground, inwardly pleading for the pain to go away.

Violar rolled to her opposite side, still holding tightly to her fetlock, and looked across the ravine. Suddenly her hearts stopped when she saw her father standing there, a chestnut-brown centaur with a long beard that cascaded to his waist. He held out a single sword.

He was surrounded by five snarling werewolves.

The moonlight shone like blue ice on their mangy fur coats and the scraps of old cloth that still clung to the former Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, now hideous beasts with an insatiable appetite for blood. Their horrible yellow and red eyes gleamed in the darkness, and saliva dripped from their bared fangs.

_Aslan, no. No, Aslan. Aslan, please…_

Eolas Windsong backed to the ravine's edge and planted his hooves, holding his sword firmly toward the five werewolves. He was outnumbered, but he faced them courageously to make his last stand.

The largest werewolf, a black beast with yellow eyes, strode forward. As he approached the brave centaur, he slowly stood up on his hind legs until his shape changed to resemble a scruffy Son of Adam. A tattered black cloak fluttered in his wake. His yellow eyes glowed with a wicked light. With an awful smile, he bared his sharp teeth and lifted a hand towards Eolas. Blue fire flickered to life and darted playfully between his fingers.

"Prepare to die, Narnian," the werewolf growled. "Look into my eyes and see your death. Nothing will save you now – not even that pathetic lion."

With a sharp jerk of his hand, a stream of blue lightning intensified and slammed into the centaur. Eolas threw his head back with a horrible yell, and he collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. His sword fell away from his rigid hand.

A scream tore from Violar's throat. "Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it! Let him go!"

The other four werewolves swung their bloodthirsty gazes to the injured palomino centaur on the other side of the ravine. Three broke into hoarse, barking laughter. The last werewolf tossed back his head and sent a howl at the midnight sky.

Another blast of fire struck Eolas – this one green. Violar shrieked and struggled to heave her body upright, fueled by outrage and her father's tortured cries. Her injured foreleg hurt too much, so she stood on three legs and stared helplessly as green and red fire struck her father over and over again.

She pleaded with them to stop. She screamed and raged. She threatened them with the vengeance of Aslan. She wept and raked her hands through her tangled hair. In desperation, Violar grabbed rocks and branches from the ground and threw them with all her might, but they fell well short of the mark and tumbled into the ravine.

All the while, her father was dying.

Suddenly a breath of frosted air swept over the centaur's fur, chilling her to the bones. She whirled, stumbled on her injured leg – and saw a black-cloaked specter hovering in the trees on her side of the ravine. It had no face, only ghostly white hands that were pale as death with claw-like nails.

The formless being floated slowly towards Violar, and she stared at it, watching as it drifted closer. It had to have been ten feet tall, and the fluidity of its graceful movements suggested that it had no skeleton. The hood, which would have otherwise covered a face, was nothing but a black hole of emptiness.

The strength drained out of Violar's legs, and she collapsed to the ground. An icy chill covered her body. The dark creature glided closer to her.

_Fight, _a small voice in the back of Violar's mind said. _Fight._

She saw no purpose in that. Her parents were dead. St. John was gone. The X-Men had betrayed her. She had no one. What was the point of going on?

Violar simply laid on the ground, shivering as every ounce of warmth had been sucked out of the air. A single tear strayed down her cheek. The swaying black creature hovered over her and drew back its hood. A hole, black as the blackest abyss, lowered toward her.

Closer . . . closer. Its icy blackness gripped her soul and gave an invisible pull, and Violar's heart leapt into her throat. Nightmarish memories assailed her: The first time she'd run the point of her sword through a dark-skinned Calormene who'd tried to capture her in the desert, the winged horse Brandolor swooping down to meet his death at the hands of a spellcaster, countless dark and smoldering battlefields, the faces of men and beasts she'd killed in defense of Narnia, the sight of her dying father in the Council Ring as he gave her his sword, the serene face of her mother lost in eternal sleep, the way St. John had looked as he'd held fire in his hands and tried to kill her…

Violar wanted to scream. But she was too weak to utter a sound. She could only stare as the creature descended on her, reaching its paper-white hands toward her.

_Help me._

That was Violar's last thought before the darkness smothered her.


	8. Cold Dark Night

Cold white hands gripped Violar's face. She caught her breath at the icy shock against her skin. But it was more than the physical touch – it was the pure, hellish blackness that turned her Danger Sense to stone.

Violar shivered and trembled in paralyzed fright as the hands pulled her face closer to the black hole. She sensed the powerful nightmares approaching with growing clarity – ready to consume her consciousness. The blackness that was the dark creature's face drew so close to Violar she could smell the foul odor that radiated from it. The rotten stench of dead meat and old blood overwhelmed the centaur, but she couldn't shrink away.

Something invisible and ice-cold touched her lips, and Violar's eyes widened in horror and fright. The hands tightened on her face, and she could feel the claws digging into her skin. Panic swept over her. She tried to struggle… and found herself helpless in the grip of this monster.

Suddenly a white light exploded in the centaur's Danger Sense. The darkness recoiled. A screech stung Violar's sharp ears, and the white hands released her. Violar dropped to the ground as the ghostly black thing floated swiftly away. If it weren't a work of her overwrought imagination, Violar thought she saw a ghostly translucent jaguar in hot pursuit. Both the dark apparition and the white jaguar disappeared in the forest, and all was quiet.

Violar could breathe again.

The stars shining above the trees seemed brighter than usual. Violar lay where she'd fallen, taking soft gulps of air and wondering why it tasted so delicious. Strength filtered into her limbs once more, and she rolled onto her stomach, abruptly aware that she wasn't in her centaur form. Her long skirt caught and twisted around her legs.

Violar glanced over her shoulder at her boots. _Was I… dreaming?_

At least her mind worked again. She could think. Some of the earlier depression in her spirits rolled away like storm clouds before a strong, cleansing wind.

_Violar, can you hear me?_

Violar started at the voice in her mind. She would never get used to the Professor's unique method of communication. A little sharpness crept into her thoughts when she recalled their earlier conversation in his office.

_Yes, Professor. What do you want?_

Violar heard him sigh with relief. _Thank God. Violar, you need to get to the mansion as quickly as possible. You're in grave danger. What you just encountered was called a Dementor._

Violar's blood ran cold. _A what?_

_No time to explain,_ clipped the Professor. _Don't let yourself give in to depression, or they will destroy you. It is imperative that you think happy thoughts. Come inside the Institute, and quickly._

Violar didn't waste another second. She scrambled to her feet, a chill running down her spine as she connected her encounter with the Professor's description of a Dementor.

_Yes sir. See you shortly._

Sweeping the shadowed forest with alert glances and thanking Aslan, again, for the gift of sharp night vision, Violar picked up her skirt and ran in the direction of the mansion – and stumbled so hard that she nearly fell. Her vision spun. Violar lurched sideways and collapsed against the nearest tree, panting.

Her legs felt like jelly. She leaned her dizzy head back against the tree.

_Think happy thoughts…_

Violar had to dig deep to remember pleasant experiences, which had been few and far between in her life of late. But finally a memory came to the surface, and it brought a little smile to her lips.

Kurt Wagner's first prank on her: Painting her with zebra stripes. What a shock it had been to look back at her golden hide and see her entire body streaked with artistically-applied black frosting!

Abruptly her smile fell as she remembered their argument in the garden. Without ceasing her vigilant glances into the forest around her, Violar bit her lip. She'd hurt her dearest friend in New York – or in any world, for that matter.

"Violar!"

Her head snapped to the left. Through the darkened trees she spotted a man-shaped silhouette that waved emphatically to her.

"Violar! Over here."

Her eyes widened when she recognized the voice. "Jimmy?"

She turned toward him – and stopped, uncertain. What was he doing out here? After the things he'd said to her in Xavier's office, she had good reason to doubt he wanted to help her.

_You know, I was actually attracted to you. Heck, I was thinking of asking you out on a date. Now I'm glad I didn't, because I see you for what you really are._

Violar's heart ached. Memories of the time she'd been trapped on a roof after Angel had saved her from a devastating fire assailed her. She'd been so distraught over Pyro's death and so panicked after nearly crossing that Great Divide into eternity that she'd turned on Angel. He'd saved her life; she'd torn him apart. He'd given her a strong dose of his own healing blood; she'd accused him of playing God and told him he'd had no right to determine whether she lived or died.

_Wizard or not, Jimmy O'Bannon isn't the only man to see me for who I really am._

Violar swallowed down the bitter knot in her throat.

_Think happy thoughts._

Jimmy started to approach her, his head on a swivel, looking for something. His offer remained between them. Violar wrestled with herself.

_The Professor gave orders to get inside the mansion immediately. _

Then another horrifying thought struck her.

_Kurt's still out here._

Without a second thought, Violar shoved away from the tree and rushed across the courtyard toward the garden, ignoring her dizziness and the wobbly condition of her legs. She had to reach Kurt at all costs. She dashed along the curving pathway – and skidded to a halt, the breath knocked out of her.

_Aslan, no!_

Kurt Wagner was standing there, frozen, his yellow eyes wide open and staring into the black hood of a Dementor hovering only a few feet away.

"Kurt!" she screamed.

Violar broke into a run – and slowed down as her spirit suddenly weighed heavily like a black anvil in her chest. She was going to be too late. Whatever this Dementor creature was, Violar wouldn't be able to save Kurt from its icy clutches.

Her shoulders slumped as she came to a stop, gazing ruefully at the blue mutant. His yellow eyes were glazed and his tail dragged on the ground, reminding Violar of the way he'd looked at her when she'd told him that he was no family of hers. After all they'd been through together, how could he forgive her for a statement like that? Kurt had thrown open the gates of Xavier to her and welcomed her with open arms, even initiating a prank war with her to help her feel like part of the family. And she'd repaid his generosity by turning her back on him.

_I'm sorry, Kurt._

A single tear ran down her cheek. She watched, helpless, as the Dementor drifted closer to him.

A white flash caught Violar's attention. She gasped as a spectral bear shot past her. It took a running jump and barreled into the dark creature. The cloaked thing gave a blood-curdling cry and swept out of the garden, the glowing white bear at its heels.

Kurt went limp and crumpled to the ground.

"Kurt!" Violar jolted from her dark reverie and sprinted to him, throwing herself to her knees beside him. His eyes were closed and his sharp teeth were bared in a silent snarl – a frozen expression of distress. His velvet blue face was almost stone gray.

"Oh no, Kurt," whispered Violar, gathering him gently in her arms. She bit her lip, trying to blink away the tears that glistened in her eyes. "I'm here… I'm sorry… I'm right here…"

Suddenly Violar heard running footsteps approaching, fast. Still cradling a half-conscious Nightcrawler, she turned around, her muscles tensed, ready to protect her friend.

"You guys okay?" Jimmy O'Bannon asked as he neared them.

"Yes! We're fine," snapped Violar too quickly, half-crouched over Kurt in an aggressive posture – like a mother bear protecting her defenseless cub. "I'm a healer. I don't need your—"

_Crack!_

"Everyone okay?" asked Rosa.

"Apart from being ungrateful, I think the centaur's fine."

Violar's face twisted in a scowl at Jimmy's comment. Before she could say anything, he continued. "This guy looks out of it, but I drove off the Dementor before he could suck out his . . . whoa." Jimmy's eyes widened. Surprise registered on his face as his eyes remained locked on Kurt. "Check out this guy."

For a split-second, Jimmy's remark puzzled Violar – until she remembered what Kurt Wagner looked like: Pointed ears, clawed three-fingered hands, big feet with three elongated toes each, snake-like tail with a pointed spade at the end, and blue velvet skin with tattooed scars of strange designs swirling all over him.

Heat flared through Violar's nerves, and her glare locked on the young wizard. "You have no right to judge Kurt by appearance, O'Bannon," she warned in a low tone.

Jimmy shook his head. "Ah, don't worry. I've seen weirder things in the Wizarding World."

"Kurt is not weird!" Violar gasped, aghast and furious. "How can you say that?" She pulled the unconscious blue mutant closer to her and glowered at Jimmy, even as her heart ripped with pain. "He is not a 'thing,' either. He is the kindest, humblest, most noble soul I've ever encountered. Don't talk about my friend that way."

"All right." Jimmy held up his hands. "I'm sorry. Jeez."

The last traces of anger faded from the centaur's face, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. After everything she'd said to Kurt a little while ago in the garden, she was too heartsick to answer. Instead she concentrated on Kurt, lifting one of his eyelids and peering into the dim yellow glow beneath. Then she pressed two fingers to his neck and tested his pulse. With every strong, steady beat that met her firm touch, relief flowed through the centaur.

_He's fine. He's going to be fine._

Swallowing hard, Violar silently thanked Aslan as she hugged Kurt close and rubbed along his jacket sleeve to keep him warm.

Rosa bent down and picked up something from the ground. It took Violar a moment to recognize it: Kurt's bag of gummy worms. He must have dropped them when that – what did they call it? _Dementor_ – attacked him.

"What the heck are gummy worms?" Rosa asked.

"They're a candy that looks like worms," answered Jimmy, whose head rotated left to right, scanning for any threats presumably.

Rosa chewed on her lip in thought, then bent down and held out the bag. "Here. You two eat some of these."

Startled, Violar eyed the candy with suspicion. "Why should we?"

Rosa grunted in exasperation. "In our world, chocolate can help you recover from the affects of a Dementor encounter. Since we don't have any chocolate, this is probably the next best thing. Now eat."

That sounded farfetched, to say the least. Frowning, the centaur studied Rosa's face and found no trace of malice or insincerity. After a moment, Violar – convinced it was neither a trap nor a prank – cautiously relented and accepted the bag with a slight nod. "Thank you."

No sooner had Violar set the bag on Kurt's chest and withdrawn a few gummy worms when a cold chill slithered down her spine, and she sighed heavily. Gummy worms were a treat Kurt had introduced her to – though she'd been understandably reluctant to eat anything called a worm. Only Kurt's insistence had forced her hand. Ever after, it had been a playful gesture between them to bring a bag of gummy worms – or bears, or guppies – to their frequent meetings.

Now, after the rift she'd created between them, it didn't seem as if Kurt would ever bring her so much as a gummy worm ever again.

"Jimmy!" Rosa cried out.

Jimmy's face stiffened he took a breath and held out his wand. The tip glowed brightly, and he aimed it like a flashlight. The beam crossed the dark stone walls of the mansion, danced over the bushes around it . . .

And revealed a Dementor skulking near one of the windows.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

The white, ethereal jaguar Violar saw earlier burst from Rosa's wand. It charged the Dementor. The creature wailed and retreated from the mansion, vanishing into the dark woods.

Realization crashed down on Violar. Immediately after she kicked herself for giving in to a fresh round of depressing thoughts, Violar stared at Rosa with a conflicted expression. Clearly the ghost jaguar belonged to her – possibly a pet, Violar reflected.

_Rosa saved me from that… awful Dementor thing._

Kurt groaned and stirred in Violar's arms. She gasped and looked down at him as two glowing yellow slits appeared in the shadows of his face.

"Kurt. Kurt!" A trembling smile touched her lips, and she hesitantly caressed his velvet cheek. "I've got you, Kurt. You're safe. Everything is going to be fine now."

Kurt bared his sharp teeth and uttered a low growl, then pressed a clawed hand to his temple and mumbled something in German. Violar stared at him, her brow furrowed in concern.

"He's had a mild shock," she announced to her companions, shrugging out of her cream-colored trench coat and covering Kurt with it. "We need to get into the mansion, now."

"No way we're just walking there. It's open ground from here to the entrance," Rosa pointed out. "We're too exposed."

"Good thing we're wizards and we don't have to walk to get where we want to."

Rosa nodded to Jimmy as she took hold of Kurt's wrist. Jimmy then stepped purposefully over to Violar.

"No, wait!" insisted Violar. There was little hiding her fright as her silvery eyes darted between Jimmy and Rosa. She shrank back from Jimmy and stayed close to Kurt. "I… I don't want to Apparate. If we give Kurt another minute or two, he'll come around, and he can teleport us."

"Violar, we don't have time for this." Jimmy's eyes narrowed at her.

"I said no!"

Jimmy came closer. Violar suddenly stood up and faced him, determined and angry.

"Stay away from Kurt!"

Planting both hands on his chest, Violar shoved him hard. But Jimmy was stronger than she'd given him credit for, and he was ready. He snatched her wrist.

Violar gasped and threw herself backwards, furious. "Let me—!"

_Crack!_

Before she could finish her sentence, they were already in the Professor's office. Rosa and Kurt blinked into existence a second later. Conversations instantly stopped dead, and five pairs of concerned eyes studied the new arrivals.

Shameful heat flooded Violar's cheeks, and she suddenly looked as if she were trying not to cry. Scowling at the floor, she jerked her wrist free of Jimmy's hand and knelt down beside Kurt, stubbornly refusing to look at either of the young magic wielders and ignoring everyone else in the room.

"You're welcome," muttered Jimmy, tacking on an annoyed grunt.

Violar ignored him, but her hands were trembling as she pulled out a few gummy worms to feed a half-coherent Kurt Wagner and herself. Her long dark hair fell over her face, and Violar hid her smoldering gaze behind it. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

"Kurt!" Kitty gasped. "Is he all right?"

Violar nodded without looking up. "He's not hurt."

"Rogue." The Professor turned to her. "Hurry to the kitchen and get some chocolate. That should help Kurt recover faster."

Rogue drew her head back, her face scrunched in disbelief. "Seriously, Professor? Chocolate? Ain't this kind of a weird time to be satiatin' a cravin' for—"

"Rogue, hurry."

Rogue didn't say another word. She simply nodded and dashed out of the office.

Professor Dumbledore looked to Jimmy and Rosa. "The Dementors?"

"Gone," Rosa answered. "We chased them away with our Patronuses."

As Rosa briefly recounted their encounters with the Dementors to the Professor, Violar concentrated on Kurt, gently feeding him gummy worms one at a time. But she wasn't paying Kurt much attention. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and she felt as if her emotions had been dragged through the mud. She breathed a heavy sigh and stared at the bag of candy.

Then a warm, clawed hand touched her shoulder. A wave of calm swept over Violar, and she looked into the glowing yellow eyes of Kurt Wagner.

Without taking his steady gaze from Violar, Kurt slowly sat up until he was face to face with the centaur. Violar's sullen expression melted, leaving her raw and vulnerable. Her fiery eyes softened to liquid silver.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, swallowing the thick knot in her throat.

Kurt's hand tightened on her shoulder, and the look on his face was one of fierce determination. Suddenly he gripped her and pulled her into a strong hug.

"I forgive you, liebling," he whispered back.

Violar drew a shaky breath, then nosed into his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. Spicy brimstone fragrance overwhelmed her senses. She felt Kurt's cheek resting against her hair as she returned the hug with all her might, determined not to let him go. Never again. Never, ever again.

It may have been only a moment – or much longer. Violar couldn't tell how much time passed before they finally released one another. She straightened up and squared her shoulders, filled with fresh strength and courage, and she squeezed his velvet hand as she steadily met his gaze.

"Thank you."

A little smile warmed Nightcrawler's blue features. "Bitteschon."

Violar offered him a shy smile, then lowered her head. Despite her mortification, a deep sense of security enveloped Violar when Kurt's large hand covered hers, hiding it within his velvet palm.

Slowly Violar became aware that the Professor was speaking to Rosa and Jimmy.

"Well done, both of you."

Drawing on the courage Kurt had freshly instilled in her, Violar looked between Xavier and Dumbledore. "What were those . . . horrible dark creatures out there?"

A grim look came over the ancient wizard's wrinkled, bearded face. "Dementors are among the foulest creatures in existence. They feed off the worst memories and emotions a person has. And pray you never receive a Dementor's Kiss."

Violar shivered, thinking back to the creature's mouth hovering inches from her own. She could still feel the icy coldness of its touch on her lips. "What . . . what does it do?"

"The Dementor's Kiss is considered a fate worse than death. Your soul is sucked from you. You will live . . . actually, that is not correct. You will _exist_, but as nothing more than an empty shell."

A powerful shudder shook through the centaur, and she crossed her free arm over her chest as Kurt tightened his grip on her hand. "Are they . . . are they allied with those Death Eaters?"

"They are." Dumbledore nodded. "Which worries me more than you can imagine, as the Dementors serve as guards at Azkaban."

A puzzled expression formed on Violar. "Azkaban?"

"The Wizarding prison in Britain. Unfortunately, as our current Minister of Magic refuses to acknowledge Voldemort's return, he sees no need to remove the Dementors from their posts at Azkaban, where many of the Dark Lord's followers remain imprisoned."

It was difficult to comprehend what Dumbledore was saying, since the world he spoke of was so foreign to a centaur from Narnia. "Let me get this straight," she backtracked carefully as she aligned the facts in her mind. "The Dementors, who are followers of Lord Voldemort, are guarding Azkaban – and that means they could release Death Eaters whenever they please."

"In so many words, yes."

A scowl darkened Violar's expression. "Nothing like having the enemy guarding the enemy. How awful that your own leader would ignore such a security risk and the threat of evil in that manner." Abruptly Violar paused, and she narrowed dubious silvery eyes at Dumbledore. "Then again, what will your world be like when this dark lord is defeated? Who is to say that your leader is any different from Lord Voldemort?"

Kurt's three fingers tightened on Violar's hand, and he shot her a warning glance. Xavier's expression hardened, but he said – and thought – nothing.

"Cornelius Fudge may be exhibiting several of the traits found in dictators, whether they be Muggle or Magical. Even so, the Minister is acting out of fear, not evil. Fear that whatever policies he enacts to combat Voldemort might be unpopular with the wizarding population, warranting his removal from office. That, and the fact he does not want to admit the dark times we endured two decades ago during Voldemort's first reign of terror can happen again."

Brow furrowed, Violar glanced at Jimmy. The young wizard scowled and shook his head. His lips moved, silently mouthing two words. One was "Fudge," the other . . . well, it was a word that started with the same letter as "Fudge." A word she'd heard some of the younger students say every so often. A word that made her sensitive Narnian ears burn every time she heard it.

Violar's lips tightened into a thin line as she stared hard at Jimmy. Although the word wasn't native to Narnian vocabulary, Violar knew what it meant. An innocent inquiry, made several months ago, had dragged the definition out of a sheepish teenaged mutant. Violar had flushed, promptly scolded him, and said she'd never wanted to hear that word again.

But Jimmy O'Bannon wasn't one of Xavier's students. The worst she could do was beam him a look of indignant fury – though it had no effect. And her glare didn't last long. The insult might have been extreme, but deep down, Violar realized that Minister Cornelius Fudge was deserving of derision.

She dragged her thoughtful gaze back to Dumbledore. "This Fudge fellow's very inaction warrants his removal from office," she remarked. "A leader who cares more about himself than his people can be as terrible an evil as an outright dark lord. Men like him are capable of anything, if it means saving his own skin."

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore held up his hand, signaling an end to this argument, "we have more pressing concerns at the moment."

"Like Dementors," agreed Violar with a stiff nod.

"Worse than Dementors."

Violar's eyes widened. "Surely there can't be anything worse than—"

Two sharp cracks filled the room. Violar jerked in surprise as Rosa's parents suddenly appeared.

"You were successful?" Dumbledore asked the new arrivals.

"Yes, Headmaster," answered Cesario Infante. "The Muggles' memories have been modified to think they experienced nothing more than a vehicle accident."

Violar pursed her lips and lowered her eyes. Kurt stood up and gently helped the centaur to her feet, and Violar stayed close to his side.

"You have, perhaps, arrived just in time." Dumbledore told the Infantes of the attack by the Dementors and how Jimmy and Rosa had driven them off. Cesario and Adelaide looked at the two teen magic wielders, and Violar glanced up in time to catch the Infantes' expressions of mixed pride and concern.

"But I fear this is just a prelude to a second attack," Dumbledore told them.

Professor Xavier nodded. "Send in the Dementors to wreak havoc with our emotions, then bring in a second wave to finish us off."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore.

"So will they attack now, after we stopped the Dementors?" asked Rosa.

"You're not waiting around to find out," declared Mr. Infante.

Rosa's brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Jimmy still aren't of age. I want you to Apparate out of here now."

"What?" Rosa blurted, outrage blazing in her eyes.

"C'mon, Mister Infante," Jimmy pleaded. "You'll need every wand you can get for this."

"Besides," Rosa jumped in. "We've already fought Death Eaters in Ovenderburg a couple months ago, and we fought more tonight at that Muggle restaurant. So we're not seventeen. We can handle ourselves."

"Even so, you're both still not of age, and should not be doing any fighting yet. Now I don't have time to argue this with you. Apparate back to our house, and stay there."

Rosa's nostrils flared, her cheeks reddened. Anger lines etched in Jimmy's face. But to Violar's surprise, neither of them continued the argument. The two teens stared at each other, scowled and closed their eyes. Violar tensed, waiting for the telltale crack of Apparation.

It never came.

"Rosa. Jimmy." Mrs. Infante gave them a suspicious eye.

"Seriously, Mom, I tried to Apparate. But I can't."

"Me neither," Jimmy added.

Dumbledore's eyes scanned the ceiling. "I sense an Anti-Apparation barrier around your school."

Violar looked surprised. "What? Only a few minutes ago, you were Apparating all over the place." She glared at Jimmy.

The silence that fell over the room had nothing to do with the lingering bitter edge in the centaur's voice.

"I think it's safe to say we're about to be attacked," Mr. Infante said.

Violar immediately broke away from Kurt, strode across the room, and picked up her swords – both of which were still lying where Jimmy's spell had thrown them. Gripping the hilts tightly, Violar crossed back to Kurt's side with a determined glare at Mr. Infante.

"They will taste steel before they hurt anyone here," she growled. She glanced at Bobby and Kitty, then shifted harder gray eyes to Jimmy and Rosa. "Anyone."

Rosa glared back at her. Jimmy rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that Violar couldn't hear. Violar aimed a cold stare at both of them, then turned her back. But she bit the inside of her cheek: She wasn't entirely proof against their resentment towards her, even if she'd been the one who'd caused it.

"Professor, the students," said Kurt in a low tone.

"I've already contacted Jean. She's moving the children to the emergency shelters."

At that moment, Rogue rushed back into the room, breathing heavily. She brought Kurt a bag of Hershey's Kisses.

Violar had forgotten all about the chocolate. "Bless you, Marie. Kurt, I'll unwrap these for you. Would you hold my swords?"

The blue mutant slid his tail spade around the hilts and held the twin blades while Violar jerked open the bag, then peeled away the shiny silver foil over a tapered chocolate drop. As she handed Kurt the first two, a brief smile crossed her face.

_Certainly a much better kiss than one from those Dementors._

Maybe just the rich aroma of chocolate was having a positive effect on her, she reflected, if she could bring such a humorous thought out of a dark situation.

"Rogue, good," Xavier continued. "I want you, Bobby and Kitty to help Jean bring the children to the shelter. I've already contacted Wolverine, Colossus and Storm to take up defensive positions on each floor. I've also sent messages to Angel and Beast to return to the mansion as quickly as possible."

Violar almost choked on a Hershey's Kiss. Tightening her jaw, she stared hard at the floor and fought back a painful scowl. Her mouthful of chocolate suddenly tasted bitter.

_Angel, here? Great. That's just great._

"We should have at least one of us partnered with one of your X-Men," Dumbledore said. "Cesario, you can—"

A shrill, eerie howl pierced the mansion's stone walls and drilled into Violar's ears. Violar gasped and dropped the Hershey's bag, her wide eyes on the window. Chocolate kisses spilled like silver jewels over the floor.

"That's no wolf," she breathed in horror, swallowing down the last of her chocolate. "That's… a werewolf!"

Before she could take her swords from Kurt's tail, Violar nearly fell off her feet as a thunderous blast rocked the mansion.

The Battle for Xavier's School for the Gifted had begun.


	9. Creatures Of The Night

"Charles, can you reach into the Death Eaters' minds?" Dumbledore asked. Violar marveled at the calmness of the ancient wizard's voice. Part of the mansion had just blown up, judging by the powerful explosion and the debris flying past their window, but it seemed no more alarming to Dumbledore than misplacing a pair of spectacles. It made her wonder how many situations like this he'd been through. Probably many, given his unruffled demeanor.

The Professor's brow furrowed in concentration. Violar's hearts hammered against her chest as she gripped her swords. She glanced at the fog of splinters swirling outside the window. She prayed the Professor could defeat the enemy with just a thought. Better that than a pitched battle where her friends could be killed.

"Argh!" the Professor grunted. Violar's eyebrows arched at an expression she'd never seen on Xavier's face before: Frustration.

"Their minds are shielded from me," The Professor said. "They're using

Occlumency, and a very powerful form of it."

"There are some very complicated potions that can enhance a wizard's or witch's natural abilities for Occlumency," said Dumbledore. "And, unfortunately, it would appear the other side has them."

It was difficult to fathom how strong these magical folks, these Death Eaters, had to be in order to block out a telepath as powerful as Charles Xavier. Violar wondered what Occlumency was, but based on the situation, she had a solid guess. Some kind of mind shield.

Xavier began issuing orders.

"Bobby, Rogue, Kitty. Go help Jean evacuate the rest of the children to the shelters. Rosa, go with them. Cesario, join Storm on the first floor. Adelaide, go to Wolverine on the second floor. Albus, if you wouldn't mind helping Colossus on the third floor."

"Of course, Charles." Dumbledore added a slight bow.

"What about me, Professor?" asked Violar.

"Take Nightcrawler to the MedLab."

"_Nein_. I . . . I want to help," Kurt begged in a breathless accented voice.

"I'm sorry," the Professor frowned, "but you are in no shape to fight." His eyes shifted back to Violar, who offered Kurt a brief sympathetic glance. "Once you've taken Nightcrawler to the MedLab, guard the entrance to Cerebro. We can't risk the Death Eaters destroying it, or God forbid, finding a way to use it."

Violar had been through too many battles to question orders. "Yes, Professor."

"And take Jimmy with you."

Violar stiffened. But, again, she didn't question orders. "Yes, Professor."

She glanced at Jimmy without expression and noticed his suspicious look, but he didn't protest either. Violar nodded shortly to him, glanced at Kurt, then led the way out the door and ran down the darkened hallway.

There was no time to dwell on important matters that needed further consideration: The Professor forgiving and forgetting her earlier behavior, then assigning her as Kurt's escort and putting her in charge of an important mission. And with Jimmy O'Bannon, of all people. Despite their earlier issues, Violar wasn't concerned about him. Their moments under fire had taught her that Jimmy was on their side. As long as he didn't undermine the mutants' efforts or let animosity prevent him from working with Violar, he'd be an asset. Nothing else mattered.

A distant explosion rocked the floor beneath their feet as they reached the door leading to the sub-levels, which included the MedLab. Violar tossed both swords into one hand and reached for the knob just as a child's agonizing scream shattered the quiet.

Violar whirled with a gasp. "That's Julian," she breathed in horror.

She darted toward the cry – and stopped in her tracks, her wide eyes skidding back to Kurt.

"Forget about me, _liebling_," he said. "I know the way."

"You'll go?" Violar demanded, knowing Kurt's fighting spirit all too well.

Kurt bared his teeth and snarled at her. "_Ja_. Go!"

Violar whirled and ran. Jimmy raced beside her, matching her stride for stride, and his worry and fear on the child's behalf burned in her Danger Sense. Another terrible scream sent ice crashing into her stomach. She glanced at Jimmy as his legs pumped fiercely, his face strained with worry and his wand gripped tightly.

They burst into the doorway of the lounge. A figure in dark robes and a hood stood over twelve-year-old Julian Rodriguez. The boy wailed in agony, a pool of blood forming around his right leg. The dark wizard pressed the tip of his boot into the blood-soaked tear in Julian's pants, causing him to writhe and howl and sob.

All the while, the Death Eater laughed.

A roar exploded from Violar's throat. Slamming her wrist against her choker, the centaur gathered her hind legs and charged the Death Eater, both swords raised and her face a twisted mask of fury. Jimmy pointed his wand. He screamed something. Violar couldn't make out the word, but the fury behind it was unmistakable.

A bolt of blue light streaked past Violar. It struck the Death Eater's left shoulder. A sickening _crack _tore through the air as the dark wizard yelled and spun around. He fell to his knees, howling, his wand clattering to the floor.

With a fierce battle cry, Violar hurtled forward. The Death Eater turned, his face full of shock and suffering. His left arm hung limply, the shoulder at an awkward angle.

Violar cleared Julian's body in a flying leap and slammed the hilt of her sword into the Death Eater's forehead. The dark wizard had time for one startled glance before he crumpled in an unconscious heap at Violar's feet. Blood spilled from the gash in his head.

"_Freezium!"_ Jimmy roared. A chalk white beam struck the Death Eater. Within seconds ice coated his entire body.

A word flew from Jimmy O'Bannon's mouth, one of those words that made Violar's ears burn. She flattened her pointed ears and bit her tongue to keep from scolding him. Now was not the time for it.

The centaur cast her eyes to the floor. Julian grabbed his bleeding leg, rolling back and forth, crying in agony.

Violar buckled her legs, collapsing to the floor beside the little boy and leaning over him.

"Julian! Julian, I'm here. I'm so sorry…"

She bit her lip and dropped her swords to stroke his black hair, then glanced down at his injured leg. Her hearts jumped into her throat and tears welled up in her eyes when she saw the extent of Julian's injuries. A huge, deep gash pumped blood through the boy's small fingers. She noticed the color draining from his face.

_Aslan, no…_ _He's bleeding to death._

Another worry hit her. Did the spell that sliced Julian's leg do other things to him? Dark magic couldn't be underestimated. It would have taken more than a slice like that to have Julian screaming, and for one horrible moment Violar wondered if Julian had been poisoned. She'd heard the story, time and again, of how her pregnant mother had been struck by a poisoned arrow that nearly killed both her and the baby growing inside of her. Violar's successful birth had been looked on as nothing short of a miracle.

Violar sensed Jimmy kneeling beside them. She looked at him through frantic tears. Jimmy just stared at Julian's bleeding leg in shock. All he did was stare at it, nothing else.

"Don't just sit there!" snapped Violar sharply. She slapped her choker and shifted into her human form, then sat down and tore a broad strip across the hem of her brown skirt. "Do something!"

Violar's cry seemed to snap Jimmy out of his daze. He bit his lip and looked over to her. "What's his name?"

Violar shredded the thick swath of fabric free with a jerk. "Julian."

Jimmy nodded. He put a hand on Julian's shoulder. "Julian. Julian. Hey. My name's Jimmy. I'm gonna help you, okay? Everything's gonna be fine."

Violar barely had time to comprehend the sincerity of Jimmy's desire to help the boy, but time was her enemy now. She had to stop the bleeding, fast.

"Violar," Jimmy interrupted quietly, moving his wand over the gash with a gentler expression that stilled the centaur. "I need you to keep him calm. I'm going to cast a healing spell on him."

Violar jolted, and her silvery eyes flashed. She wasn't happy about the idea of placing a magic spell on Julian. But it was the caring look on Jimmy's face that made up her mind, and she dropped the torn fabric and clasped Julian's face between her hands.

"Hey, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "I'm right here. The bad man is gone, and we're going to help you feel better. It'll all be over in a minute. See?"

To Violar's immense relief, Julian's convulsive sobs smoothed out. Whatever Jimmy was doing, it had a positive effect on the boy. With a trembling smile, Violar stroked her fingers over Julian's damp cheeks, then grew pale with worry. His dark skin felt too cold, and his face took on a grayish pallor.

Violar slid her upper body over Julian and rubbed his small arms, trying to keep him warm. The boy's black lashes fluttered in a way that alarmed Violar.

"Stay with me, Julian," she pleaded. "Focus on my voice. Can you talk to me?"

"A… a little," Julian whimpered. "It hurts."

Violar bit her lip. "I need you to keep talking, Julian. Will you do that for me?"

The boy responded with a weak groan.

Violar tossed a glance over her shoulder as Jimmy finished his spell, but though the wound had improved, it continued bleeding.

Her dark eyes locked on Jimmy. "Can't you fix it?"

Frowning, Jimmy shook his head. "He musta got hit with a really bad curse."

"You have to stop the bleeding!" Violar insisted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's going into shock."

"This is the best I can do."

Violar stared at him, then scowled. "This is your best?" She glanced at Julian's still bleeding wound. "What sort of wizard are you?"

"One who only knows some basic healing spells," Jimmy snapped back. He took a quick, calming breath. "We need to get this kid to a healer. A magical healer."

The centaur pursed her lips. She didn't trust magical healers, but she didn't have a choice. Julian's life was at stake.

"Fine," she muttered, grabbing the strip of fabric she'd torn from her skirt and binding it around Julian's leg. "This will have to do for now." Then she added halfheartedly, "Thanks for trying."

Jimmy responded with a short grunt and a nod of the head.

"How can we get him to a healer if you can't Apparate?" Violar asked as she held Julian's hand reassuringly.

"We'll have to head outside and get past the Anti-Apparation barrier." Jimmy scooped up Julian.

"I'll carry him," Violar offered, holding out her arms for the half-conscious boy. Her throat tightened. "You're probably needed here… more."

_More than I am,_ Violar thought but couldn't voice. That hurt to admit, but she knew it was true. They still had to guard Cerebro, and Violar was a sitting target against dark magic wielders.

"I'm coming with you," argued Jimmy.

"What? Jimmy, be reasonable," pleaded the centaur. "We don't have time to discuss this. If one Death Eater found his way in, you can bet there'll be more. They could be on their way to Cerebro right now."

"And how do you expect to Apparate without me?" Jimmy cut her off. "Guarding Cerebro can wa—"

Violar noticed movement from down the hallway leading to the lounge. Her head jolted up just as another Death Eater stepped into the corridor twenty feet away. Before she could move, the dark wizard raised his wand and fired a blood red beam.

_No!_

Instantly Jimmy turned his back to the Death Eater, shielding Julian from the spell. Terror paralyzed Violar as the bolt struck Jimmy in the back. He cried out.

"Jimmy!" Violar shrieked.

Julian fell from his nerveless arms. The boy struck the floor with a harsh thud before Violar could catch him. Jimmy flailed, his skin turning an ugly shade of red. He unleashed an anguished cry and toppled to the floor beside Julian.

Out the corner of Violar's eye, she saw the Death Eater moving toward the lounge like a predatory creature, pointing his wand at her with an awful grin. Violar jumped in front of Jimmy and Julian and crouched into an instinctive fighting stance. Her eyes darted to the swords lying several feet away. Her gaze skidded back to the dark specter in the doorway, and she gulped. She'd never make it to the swords in time.

And she wouldn't leave the two helpless victims unprotected long enough to risk it. Baring her teeth, she glared at the Death Eater, breathing heavily and clenching her fists as her heart raced.

The dark wizard's ice blue eyes glittered in triumph. "How does it feel to be powerless, girl?" he gloated with a haughty tilt of his wand. "How does it feel to know that I could cause you unimaginable torment with a few choice words, or that I could wipe away your pathetic existence with a mere thought?"

Violar scowled so hard her expression rivaled that of an angry Logan Howlett. "You spineless beast," she growled through her teeth. "You would kill defenseless women and children? You have no honor."

His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise, and a deep laugh rumbled in his throat. A look of wicked pleasure crossed his face as he swaggered forward and stopped just inside the lounge. "All's fair in war, love. You're just too proud to admit defeat. Perhaps, after a little dose of Cruciatus, you'll be singing a different tune."

Violar had no idea what he was talking about. "Never," she snarled.

"Wrong answer, love." Still grinning, he ground his teeth together. "This'll be fun. I'll have you groveling on your knees and begging for mercy before I'm through with you."

He jerked his wand at Violar. The centaur tensed, bracing for the worst.

Suddenly a blur of black and white struck the Death Eater from the side. Both figures fell to the ground in a heap.

Violar recognized the dark hair with the white streak.

_Rogue!_

The black-cloaked figure rolled and Marie came out on top, landing two powerful punches to the Death Eater's nose. He took them both with startled grunts of pain and stared at the girl in disoriented shock.

Rogue suddenly ripped off her glove and pressed a bare hand onto the dark wizard's forehead just as Violar twisted sideways, darting for her swords. Violar scooped them up – and froze in mid-step, not daring to breathe.

The air around her grew thicker and crackled like lightning, charged with invisible particles of electricity until Violar felt as if she'd been caught in a massive cobweb of tiny livewires. Tingles raced along her nerves and the hair on the back of her neck rose. A cold shudder slithered down her spine, and she slowly turned, staring at Rogue and the Death Eater.

Marie gritted her teeth, trembling all over as she ground her palm against the dark wizard's forehead. The Death Eater shook with effort as he strained and struggled against Rogue's mutant power. But gradually the strength drained out of him, and he convulsed with a gasp. His expression lost its fury and his icy eyes dulled, staring off into space.

Rogue broke her hold at the same moment and stood up. She glanced in Violar's direction, disoriented; then she stumbled backwards into the corridor wall as her gaze fell to Jimmy and Julian on the floor. She gripped her bare wrist and shivered, and her wide eyes moved to her stiffening fingers.

Violar started forward, then hesitated. Her Danger Sense tensed ominously and pulsed with unnatural energy.

"Marie?"

The electrified air shuddered as Marie lifted her unblinking eyes to Violar, then slowly looked down at the Death Eater, who was crawling miserably into the hallway like a wounded bug. Marie's face twisted with rage.

"Marie!"

Violar's Danger Sense exploded, throwing her off her feet. She let go of her swords as she crashed to the floor.

A deafening thunderclap rocked the entire corridor. A burst of energy shot out of Rogue like invisible fire. Framed photos fell from the walls and shattered. The glass windows burst outward. The Death Eater yelped and flew off the floor, hovering in midair. With a quick snap of her body, Rogue sent the Death Eater hurtling down the corridor at blinding speed. Violar flinched as he smashed into the wall, leaving a massive indentation in the wood siding. The Death Eater crumpled to the floor. Wizard or not, no human could have survived such an impact.

Rogue inhaled deeply, her shoulders sagging. Fiery sparks shot from her fingertips.

Violar scrambled to her feet, clutching her swords. "Rogue? Are you all right?"

"Yeah." She recovered herself with remarkable swiftness and gave Violar a dismissive wave. "Ah . . . Ah'll be fine."

At that moment, Rosa appeared in the doorway with four mutant children crowded around her.

"Holy crap, Rogue. That was awe—Jimmy!"

Rosa hurried toward the young wizard, distress in her face. She dropped to her knees, Jimmy convulsing and crying out next to her.

"He . . . he was hit by a spell. Protecting . . . Julian. He didn't even… give it a second thought." Violar choked up and fell to her knees on Jimmy's other side, then leaned over and tenderly scooped Julian into her arms. She hugged him close, her teary gaze on Jimmy. "Is he going to be alright?"

"He's been hit with a Fire Rash Curse." The alarm in Rosa's voice was evident. "If we don't get him the antidote in a half-hour, it'll start burning his skin to a cinder."

A horrified, shaky gasp wrenched from the centaur, and she hid her face against Julian. Jimmy was a wizard. He'd known exactly what he was doing, taking that bolt to save Julian. He'd known there would be pain and suffering to pay.

And now he might die.

When she emerged again, Violar looked very pale. She bit her trembling lip and gathered her wits.

"We… have to get him to a healer?" Violar asked.

"Or my parents' house," Rosa answered. "Or my aunt and uncle's. They have the potions we need."

"And Julian," Violar put in quickly. "We have to—"

The children down the hall screamed. Rogue looked down the hallway to her right, her eyes widening in terror. Violar tensed, unable to see what frightened Rogue so.

Rogue quickly shook it off. "Move it!" She herded the children into the lounge.

"Rogue, what is it?" Violar asked.

"Company, and not the good kind."

"Great," she growled under her breath, glowering at the hallway. Quickly but gently, she laid Julian on the floor and stood up, grabbing her swords and facing the doorway.

A low snarl from the corridor froze her blood.

"Merlin's beard," Rosa said breathlessly, and the fear in her voice unsettled Violar. Rosa wasn't a girl who scared easily. The snarl came again, and it was Violar's turn to gulp with fear: She recognized the vocalization all too well.

"Werewolf," she hissed, baring her teeth. "It's coming this way."

The children clustered behind her torn skirts.

"Stand back and get down," Violar ordered them, shifting into her centaur form. Reluctantly the children shifted away from her and lowered themselves to the floor. "Rogue, are there any more besides the werewolf?"

"Yeah, two more. Those Death Eater guys."

Violar scowled. "Who invited them for tea?"

Violar caught movement in her peripheral vision. She whipped her head around and saw Rosa's wand arm cut through the air. Instinctively, Violar tensed – as if to defend herself against an attack. She gripped her swords when she saw one of the huge sofas fly through the air with all the ease of a giant helium balloon. It shot high over her head and dropped in front of the door with a thud.

Rosa gestured again with her wand and shouted a couple of words Violar didn't understand. To the centaur's surprise, the couch shivered and turned into a stone wall that blocked the doorway to the lounge. An orange bolt from Rosa's wand struck it. Waves of energy rippled over the stones.

Violar nodded fiercely. "Good work, Rosa."

"Thanks. I put a Reinforcing Charm on the wall, but that's not going to keep them out for long."

Violar's nodded, then her nostrils flared. "By the mane. We were supposed to protect Cerebro, and we're trapped in here with two critically wounded."

"Whatever Cerebro is, it can wait," said Rosa. "We've gotta get Jimmy and this other kid out of here."

Violar shook her head, but she didn't argue. Rosa didn't understand the importance of Cerebro or how powerful a weapon it could become in the wrong hands. Her gaze fell to Jimmy and Julian, who were both writhing in agony, and her jaw tightened. Precious time ticked away.

"Alright. We'll evacuate them first," she nodded at the victims on the floor, "then come back to guard Cerebro. We don't have much choice."

"Hall's blocked," Marie pointed out.

"We can get out through the window." Violar nodded towards what used to be a large window, the glass shattered by Rogue's magical attack on the Death Eater.

"Sounds good." Rosa started toward it. "We can—"

The wall exploded. Smoke and wood chips flew through the air. The children screamed. The blast propelled Rosa off her feet. She slammed into the floor, rolled from side-to-side, and laid still.

Violar leapt aside as a large chunk of debris landed where she'd been standing, and her heart plummeted at the sight of Rosa's prone form on the carpet. She glanced aside as Rogue emerged from the thick fog of dust, coughing, and then she stared at the doorway.

A nightmare materialized in the swirling gray haze: A dark werewolf flanked by two Death Eaters. The beast's yellow eyes glowed as he stared hungrily at the children, then at the determined palomino centaur with the crossed swords. He licked his chops. Horseflesh! Now here was prey he liked.

Violar swallowed hard and held her position. "Rogue," she whispered, "get the children out of here now."

"But—"

Violar clenched her teeth. "Marie, _now_."

The dark-haired mutant girl slunk away without another word. Violar never took her gaze from the three figures in the doorway, though the Death Eaters glanced at each other and chuckled.

"Let Syburn handle this," decided one.

The other chuckled. "Good idea."

They folded their arms and stood back to watch the show.

The werewolf Syburn stepped forward, saliva dripping from his sharp teeth and his head angled toward Violar in an unmistakably predatory posture. Violar steeled herself, swords at the ready.

A sharp _pop_ echoed from the corridor. The werewolf turned. Violar caught a whiff of brimstone.

_Kurt?_

Kurt Wagner had teleported onto the back of one of the Death Eaters.

"Excuse me, mein Freunde," quipped the blue mutant with a grin, his yellow eyes and white teeth gleaming in the darkness. "Am I late for a fight?"

"Wha . . . what the hell?" The dark wizard spun around. His partner aimed his wand at Kurt.

_Bamf!_

Kurt vanished in a puff of dark blue smoke. An instant later he appeared behind the second Death Eater. The mutant sent a crescent kick into the wizard's side, knocking him against the edge of the hole in the wall.

The first Death Eater aimed his wand at Kurt.

_Bamf!_

Kurt reappeared, clinging to the wall opposite the Death Eater. The man started to turn when Kurt pounced on him and knocked him to the ground. His tail plucked the Death Eater's wand from the floor and tossed it down the hall.

A startled chuckle caught in Violar's throat, and Syburn turned on her with an angry snarl. She tensed and glared back at him.

Suddenly the beast sprang toward Violar with gaping jaws. She rose on her hind legs and twisted out of the way, thrashing the creature with her sharp hooves. The werewolf slammed into the wall, leapt to his paws, and spun to face Violar – bristling and snarling as he circled her, his powerful muscles gliding beneath his dark gray fur.

Violar refused to be trapped against the wall. The instant her adversary cut off her access to the middle of the lounge, Violar roared and charged him. Both swords flashed with deadly speed. Syburn dodged and leapt in a graceful arc to meet her. Sharp teeth sank into her equine shoulder.

Violar roared in pain and twisted her body to free herself. Syburn hung on doggedly. Violar kicked out and bucked to no avail. Infuriated, the crazed centaur swung her sword viciously and scored a bloody rent into the werewolf's side.

Syburn yowled and let go, falling through the air. Violar slammed her hooves into his ribs before he hit the floor. He whined and rolled to the carpet under the bruising blow, and he was slow to regain his paws.

Violar backed off, glowering at him and panting heavily. Blood poured from a deep gash in her palomino shoulder. Fire swept through her veins – a terrible searing fire that scorched her insides as it spread through her body. Violar suddenly knew she'd been poisoned.

She glared at Syburn. "You'll not live long to regret that," she warned him.

She snapped her tail angrily as the werewolf's eyes blazed red, and the two creatures bared their teeth at one another. Violar wouldn't allow herself to limp, though every step sent flares of pain shooting up her foreleg.

They charged one another like maddened beasts. Syburn went for her legs. Violar reared up and stomped down hard, but the werewolf narrowly missed being crushed by the deadly hooves and slashed his fangs across her vulnerable stomach. With a wild squeal, Violar kicked her hind feet forward – catching empty air. Syburn escaped and leapt for her flank, raking her golden hide with teeth and claws.

Violar howled with rage. She kicked out with both hind feet and barely scraped the werewolf's side, and his jaws latched onto her heel. Long teeth pierced her tender hock and ground deep. Violar screeched and kicked fiercely, but she couldn't shake Syburn loose.

Violar suddenly stomped her hind hooves and raced backwards until she smashed Syburn against the wall. With a tremendous effort, she kicked out – again and again and again – until Syburn was forced to let go or be crushed. He squeezed out of the tight space and immediately took the full brunt of Violar's kicks in his ribs.

_Crack!_

Syburn threw back his head and yowled in pain. He slunk off with his snout wrinkled and all his ugly fangs exposed, snarling fiercely.

Violar planted her tail against the wall and whirled her swords toward the werewolf, ready for his next attack. Syburn darted forward, then hastily backed off when Violar struck out with lightning-fast forefeet.

Abruptly Syburn dove for Violar's left foreleg, teeth flashing. Violar chopped viciously where Syburn's head should have been, but the werewolf pivoted at the last second and buried his fangs in her right hock. A wild roar exploded in the centaur's throat as she lost her balance. Gripping her hock in his teeth, Syburn threw the full weight of his body backwards. Violar squealed as the ceiling spun overhead.

She was going down!

Terror seized Violar. Falling to the ground was a death sentence for a centaur. She splayed her legs desperately and battled to stay upright, but suddenly the werewolf was gone. Violar toppled to her knees, then jerked up her head and saw Syburn flying towards her neck, jaws wide. Instinctively she flung her swords up.

Syburn landed chest-first on both blades.

A sickening crunch and a frenzied snarl ended in a gurgle. Violar's swords were jerked from her grasp and thrown to the floor by Syburn's weight. She glared down at the dying werewolf impaled on the twin blades, watching as its blazing yellow eyes slowly dimmed. Then it gasped out its final breath, and Violar's upper body collapsed beside the dead werewolf in exhausted relief.

One thought broke through the red haze in her brain.

_Kurt._

Suddenly Violar surged to her hooves and stood there, panting heavily and clenching her fists. She leaned down and gripped her swords to wrestle them free of the bloody, mangled werewolf body. With a primal snarl, she cantered toward the hole in the wall, ignoring the poisonous fire that raged through her bloodstream. She poked her head and one bloody sword into the hallway.

Kurt had one of the Death Eaters on the ground, trapped in a headlock. The other Death Eater – clearly reeling from a recent blow – crawled to his feet and shakily pointed his wand at Kurt. He growled out two words, and _bamf!_ Kurt disappeared.

The spell struck the Death Eater on the floor. He groaned and stiffened, unable to move under a Body Bind curse.

_Bamf!_

"That wasn't very nice, hexing your friend," Kurt remarked casually. The Death Eater whipped around to face him, and quick as lightning, Kurt seized him by the throat. His tail snatched away the wand. "You're worse than a child running with scissors. I'll take this, _danke_, and the world will be a safer place."

Kurt delivered a quick open-palmed blow to the Death Eater's face, and the man crumpled to the floor in a black-cloaked heap. Grinning, Kurt tucked his prize into his belt and folded his arms, leaning comfortably against the wall.

"Hallo, _liebling_." He gave Violar his best smile.

Violar struggled against the snarl burning in her throat – she wasn't angry with Kurt, after all – and offered a brief nod before she disappeared through the hole.

_Bamf!_

Kurt suddenly teleported into the lounge beside her, and his grin faltered when his glowing gaze swept over Violar's injuries. Blood streamed from half a dozen gashes in her golden fur and ran down three of her legs.

Violar gritted her teeth, breathing shakily. "I'm fine," she managed, though her deep voice hardly sounded fine to Kurt's pointed ears. "C-Cerebro?"

"Do not worry about Cerebro. I have been teleporting all over the mansion. All the Death Eaters are occupied with our friends. None of them have gotten close to Cerebro."

Some of the tension left Violar's shoulders. Their mission had been accomplished, thanks to Kurt Wagner. She swallowed hard and forced a little coherence to the surface.

"I thought… I told you… to go to the MedLab." She gave Kurt a look that was supposed to be a mild reprimand.

Kurt grinned sheepishly. "I did go, _liebling_. No one was there. So I teleported to the kitchen and ate all the chocolate I could find, and I felt good as new."

A wan smile crossed the centaur's face, and she shook her head. Before she could answer, a voice in her head interrupted her thoughts. Violar stiffened.

_The mansion has been secured,_ announced the voice of Professor Xavier, and Violar relaxed again. _The surviving Death Eaters have taken down the Anti-Apparation barrier and are disengaging from the battle._

_Crack! Crack!_

Violar's head whipped toward the hallway. Both Death Eaters Kurt had fought were gone. She also couldn't find the Death Eater Jimmy froze, though the area of the floor where he lay was now covered in a large puddle of water.

_One of his comrades must have unfroze him._

"_Sehr gut,_" muttered Kurt, pleased. "Where are the others? Did they get away?"

Violar nodded and gestured to the glassless window. The poison felt like hot acid running through her body, and she gritted her teeth against the caustic sensation.

Kurt held out his three-fingered hands. "I'll teleport you," he offered.

Violar shot him an alarmed glance. "The brimstone… will sting. I'll climb through."

Kurt flinched, shot her an apologetic glance, and darted to the window. In one bound, he was outside, and he held his hands up for the centaur. Violar peered out. It was only a short drop to the grass below, but it might has well have been a leap off a cliff for all her enthusiasm. She bit her lip, then leaned forward and took his hands before mustering her courage and jumping after him.

The landing hurt so badly that a whimper escaped her defenses, and she had to blink back tears. A painful shudder ran through her body. Kurt glanced at her in concern and kept her hand in his. Just then, Rosa and Rogue came running across the darkened courtyard toward them.

To Violar's immense relief, Rosa seemed fine.

"Oh my Gawd," Rogue gasped as she and Rosa approached, her wide eyes taking in Violar. "Vi, what happened to ya? Are you aw-right? Oh Gawd, what a stupid question. Lie down or somethin'. Y'all look awful."

"I'm . . . I'm fine, Marie. It looks… worse than it is." Nothing could have been further from the truth. Violar could feel the poison scalding her blood and causing her head to pound, but she was too much a warrior to admit it.

"That werewolf . . ." Marie hesitated. "Did he . . . do all that to ya?"

Violar nodded, a dizzy spell sweeping over her. "Yes. But don't worry. It . . . it will not hurt anyone else, ever again."

She noticed Rosa tense and take a step back. "V-Violar. You know if you're bitten by a werewolf . . ."

Violar tilted her head in mild puzzlement. "What happens?"

Rosa grimaced. "You… become one."

Violar went cold all over, despite the unnatural fire burning inside of her. "You're certain? How can…" Violar gave her head a slight shake and steadied her trembling limbs. "How can a centaur… become… a werewolf? I thought that was only for… Sons of—er… humans…"

Relief swept over Rosa's face. "It only works on humans," she breathed. "I'd forgotten about that."

Violar sighed, then caught Rosa's wide-eyed stare. Something didn't look right. The young witch seemed . . . dazed. A concussion, perhaps?

Violar tightened her shaky grip on Kurt's hand. "Where's Jimmy? Julian?"

"They're all over at my Aunt Liana and Uncle Irving's house. We . . . we should probably get you there, too. You need help."

Violar's face grew pale, and she swallowed hard. She didn't want magical healers taking care of her, but she also knew that whatever poison had been in the werewolf's bite was not something Ororo Monroe could cure.

Violar bit her lip, studying Rosa's worried expression. It was genuine. Not long ago, Rosa and the centaur had harbored such mistrust for one another that it nearly pitted them on opposite sides.

Violar's breath came short and her vision blurred with sudden tears.

"I'm fine," she managed weakly. Then the world spun as the huge centaur collapsed, unconscious.


	10. Fight Or Flight

Violar's lashes fluttered. She groaned, feeling as if she were six feet underwater. She was warm, and comfortable, and she didn't want to move…

She snuggled deeper into something soft – a thick blanket.

_Blanket?_

Violar opened her eyes and stirred – and instantly regretted it. A headache pounded her brain. Every inch of her massive centaur body was sore. She felt like she'd been through a war.

Then she remembered. She _had_ been through a war. Pushing herself painfully onto one elbow, Violar drew a deep breath into her aching lungs and looked around.

Bookshelves lined the walls of a hexagonal room. But the books populating the shelves were the strangest ones Violar had ever seen: A few of them were undulating. She could've sworn that one or two moaned. She made out the titles of the ones closest to her. _World's Worst Dark Wizards, Advanced Wards and Security Charms, _and _Powerful Counters to Powerful Curses, _which actually changed colors from black to white like a leather-bound chameleon. Watching them only made Violar's headache worse.

She groaned again, then became aware of a tingle in her Danger Sense. Her gaze snapped to the doorway. A short, stocky teenaged boy with a mop of curly black hair stood there with a friendly smile.

"Um, hey there." The boy gave her a brief wave.

"Who are you?" Violar studied him warily, not trusting her newly-awakened Danger Sense. Blindly she felt for her twin swords and found them next to her resting place on the floor. "Where am I?"

"Don't worry, you're okay." The boy put up both hands in a calming gesture. "My name's Jared Diaz. My aunt and uncle brought you to our house in Millers Falls."

Violar's brow furrowed as she gathered her swords close. _Aunt and uncle?_

The fuzziness in her brain lifted, taking the headache with it. Hadn't Rosa or Jimmy mentioned a Jared? "Cesario and Adelaide Infante? They are your aunt and uncle?"

"Yeah, they Apparated all you guys here. I was visiting my girlfriend and her folks when my dad Flooed and said I needed to come home. Family emergency, he said. Then he told me what happened." A huge smile formed on his face. "Man, I still can't believe it. Death Eaters, Dementors and werewolves, and you guys kicked their asses. Wicked pissah! I wish I could have been there."

Violar gazed dolefully at Jared, hardly sharing his enthusiasm. "You didn't miss anything," she murmured quietly, too worn out to take issue with his crude language. "We were forced to fight, and we won. That's that." Suddenly she pricked her pointed ears. "Where's Julian?"

"Whoa, whoa, relax. You're talkin' about the kid, right?"

Violar straightened her forelegs and lurched to her hooves, switching her white tail. The blanket fell away from her palomino hide. "Yes. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's here. That blue guy's looking after him in my brother's old bedroom."

Violar breathed a sigh of relief – both for herself and for Julian. She felt safer with Kurt Wagner nearby, although she had to admit that she didn't feel threatened by Jared.

"Are they all right?" she asked, buckling her weapons belt around her waist.

"Yeah, the kid's fine." Jared nodded. "Mom gave him some Blood Replenishment Potion and put a healing paste on his leg before Nurse Gillwick came over."

Violar didn't understand half of what Jared said, but she latched onto the strange name. "Who?"

"Nurse Gillwick. She's the nurse at my school. She healed the kid's leg up good. And the blue guy? When Mom heard he got attacked by Dementors, she gave him a bag of Chocolate Sparkle Mints. Man, did he wolf those things down."

The worried wrinkles in Violar's brow smoothed away, and her silvery eyes softened with the beginnings of a little smile. Then she fixed a steady gaze on Jared. "Please, good sir, take me to him. I want to see Julian."

Jared's face scrunched up and he silently mouthed, "Good sir," as though shocked by her antiquated language. A hesitant look formed on his face. "Um, are you sure? That werewolf messed you up pretty good, and Nurse Gillwick wanted you to stay off your feet for—"

"I have to see Julian," Violar pleaded, clasping her hands. "He almost died." She swallowed hard. "You don't know how much he means to me. He's like . . . a little brother. He's my responsibility, and I can't let anything happen to him." She took a firm step in Jared's direction. "Please."

Jared shifted his weight from one leg to the other and chewed on his lower lip. "Um, okay. But if my Mom or Nurse Gillwick ask, you tell 'em I tried to stop you."

The softest smile touched Violar's lips, and she regarded Jared with amused admiration. She rested a hand casually the hilt of one sword for comedic effect.

"And a valiant effort it was," she assured him, pointing one hoof forward and offering a stiff little bow. "But in the end, it is always wise to grant the requests of a centaur, particularly one so armed and dangerous as I am." Violar flashed a dazzling smile at Jared, and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Jared's head bobbed back and forth for a few moments. "Yeah, that'll work."

Violar chuckled. "Good."

As they exited the enchanted library, Violar leaned her upper body slightly to the left, then to the right. She grimaced. The battle had made her sore all over, and the aftereffects of a werewolf's poisoned bite left her feeling heavy and sluggish – as if she'd recently recovered from a fever. But she could tell her health had improved dramatically, and that she required only rest before she felt back to normal.

"What did your healer do to me?" she wondered presently.

Jared shrugged. "I'm not one hundred percent sure. I don't know much about magical healing beyond the basics. Probably some combination of potions, pastes and spells. I know Dad was saying that Nurse Gillwick had to do a lot of different things for you than she would a human. Still, looks like whatever she did worked."

It unsettled Violar – a centaur and a healer – to be left in the dark about the exact methods that had been used to cure her. Nevertheless, she thought as she trailed after Jared, she didn't sense anything amiss. Jared seemed straightforward – perhaps _too_ straightforward – and playful, but also trustworthy.

"You're right," she answered belatedly. "You're right, of course. And I'm… I'm very grateful. If you please, when next you see your Nurse Gillwick, would you be kind enough to pass along my thanks to her?"

"Yeah, no prob."

They moved into a narrower wood-paneled hallway, and Violar's claustrophobia instantly flared. She backed away and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. How she hated tight spaces!

There was only one thing to do, and Violar did it without thinking. She touched her sapphire choker and immediately shifted into a shorter humanoid girl.

"Whoa, wicked pissah!" Jared gaped at her. "How did you do that?"

Startled, Violar froze with her hand protectively covering the sapphire at her throat. Then, slowly, she gave an odd smile.

"Forgive my frankness, Master Jared, but I find it strange that you who know about werewolves and Dementors and other magical creatures would be surprised into such a crude outburst by anything."

"Are you serious? I don't know of any centaurs who'd deliberately transfigure themselves into a human. Most of 'em barely even tolerate humans. Unless you're a human who wants to be a centaur, which might be kinda cool."

That surprised and sobered Violar. Apparently, the centaurs' elitist attitude wasn't confined to Narnia.

"I was born a centaur, Jared," she explained. "But I was given this sapphire choker from Aslan, the Lord of… of the land I come from." She pulled the choker from her burgundy collar to reveal the magnificent blue jewel for a moment, then dropped it again. "It allows me to appear as a human girl. For all intents and purposes, I am – in truth – a mutant. I think. I don't really know what I am anymore." She swept a hand through her hair, frowning at the floor. "To be both human and centaur at once… who is to say what I am? All I know is that I am the creature Aslan made me to be. Perhaps that is enough."

She glanced up from the floor, and she noticed Jared checking her out in the same way Jimmy had when she'd first met him in the college parking lot. Her cheeks burned, and she abruptly lowered her head as a rush of hurt swept through her. Immediately Violar became aware of her dirty burgundy blouse and torn brown skirt. Dried blood spattered her outfit, and her dark hair was tangled and unkempt. She'd been through a battle, and she knew she looked it.

Violar also remembered Jared's words from earlier. He had a girlfriend.

She ventured a sad, wary glance at Jared, and she didn't smile as she turned her back on him and continued down the hallway, guided by her Danger Sense.

She felt Kurt Wagner first. She'd been around the blue mutant enough to identify his presence in her Danger Sense, and she hurried forward – right past a photograph on the wall depicting a round woman in a white wedding gown and a bald, muscular man in black robes. As Violar watched in astonishment, the two people in the photograph turned to each other, smiled, and shared a kiss.

Violar stopped in the middle of the hallway. She'd never seen anything like it. Abruptly she glanced back at Jared in bewilderment. "How…?"

"How what?"

Violar turned to him, gaping for a second. "How is this possible?" She nodded to the photograph.

Jared just stared the image of the married couple, who kissed again. "Um, all wizarding photographs are like that."

"But what makes them that way?"

Jared shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. That's . . . that's just the way they are."

"I see," Violar breathed, gazing at the moving photo in wonder_. _Only when she'd observed the couple – Jared's parents, she assumed - go through the same motions seven or eight times did she finally step back, shaking her head with a bemused smile. She glanced at Jared with a carefully respectful nod. "Shall we continue?"

"Okay."

Violar stopped in the doorway of a bedroom. Kurt perched on a chair near a bed, in the middle of an animated story that made his yellow eyes gleam and his tail thrash. Sitting up in the bed, Julian was laughing.

"Then, when she wasn't looking," Kurt was saying, lifting his clawed hands for effect, "I slithered out of the closet. All was dark and shadows as I crept towards her sofa, where she was quietly reading a book. Now, you know how jumpy Kitty can be, ja?" Julian nodded eagerly. Kurt's yellow eyes gleamed with delight. "I rose slowly and peered over the sofa, and for a long time she didn't see me. Then she caught a glimpse of me over her book, and…"

"And what?" cried Julian.

Kurt folded his arms across his chest, well pleased with himself. "She screamed."

Julian crowed with laughter. "Loud enough to wake the dead?"

"Ja. Louder. Then she phased through the couch and fell, screaming, though all the floors of the mansion."

Julian fell back into his pillows and laughed his head off.

"It was no laughing matter when she came back up," Kurt went on, in between his own chuckles. "She chased me around with a feather pillow and threatened to tie my tail in a knot. I barely escaped with my life and tail intact."

Julian squealed as if Kurt had tickled him.

Leaning calmly against the doorway, Violar observed the scene with a warm heart and a soft smile. Laughter from Julian and her shadowed blue friend healed her battle-torn soul faster than any potion, any salve – any magic.

"What's this? Giving the child bad ideas in my absence, Kurt Wagner?"

Kurt started so suddenly that he nearly fell off the chair, and it was Violar's turn to laugh as Kurt lashed his tail around the back of the chair and righted himself with lightning speed. Even Jared chuckled at the sight. Coming forward, Violar wrapped her arms around Kurt's neck in a gentle hug, which he returned.

"Ja," he answered her belatedly. "I hope you do not mind. Julian will make an excellent prankster one day."

"Yeah, I'm his apprentice," chimed in Julian.

Violar closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Kurt's thick indigo curls for a long moment. His spicy brimstone scent was warm and familiar, and it soothed her further. Then she turned to Julian with a smile and reached over to clasp his hand.

"You are a clever boy, Julian," she replied with soft sincerity. "You will make him proud, I'm quite sure. As for everyone else in the mansion, we're in trouble."

Julian grinned, pleased and mischievous at once. "Do I get to paint you with frosting, like a zebra?"

Violar's eyes flashed silver, and she shot a glance at Kurt, who grinned sheepishly back at her. "I recognize _that_ concept," Violar remarked in a warning tone, glaring playfully at Kurt even as she spoke to Julian, "and I know where the idea originated. If the unlucky fellow who planted that wicked thought in your innocent young head doesn't talk you out of it, his tail will be in jeopardy."

Julian giggled. Violar grinned at Kurt, her eyes sparkling and spoiling her threat. Kurt chuckled and scratched the tip of one pointed ear with his claw.

"Ah, ja, I see how it is," he said, smiling back at Violar. "Julian, my young friend, cancel Operation Zebra. But have no fear. I am hardly short of good ideas."

Violar laughed wholeheartedly and wrapped her arms around Kurt's neck again. Being the target of a Nightcrawler prank was an honor, and the prospect made her giddy – and not just because she loved surprises. Kurt was a true genius – an artist at pranks and practical jokes.

She drew back again and gazed at him with shining gray eyes. "You look better," she observed.

Kurt's tail spade slid up to press the back of her hand. "Ja, liebling. All better. As is my young apprentice." He leaned around Violar to grin at Julian.

"Yeah!" supplemented the boy, sitting up again. "And Nurse Gillwick is a _really_ nice lady, and she said that if I was real good, she'd give me all the ice cream I could eat. So I was good, and she fixed my leg with her magic wand – just like the fairy godmother in _Cinderella_, yick." He wrinkled his nose. "I only watch _Cinderella_ 'cause I like the mice. They're funny. Then she gave me the yummiest ice cream I ever had. It was, like, a whole bunch of different flavors all at the same time. And I ate a whole lot of it and I didn't get a tummyache."

Violar stared at Julian with wide eyes, amused. "Really?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yup! It even had gummy bears on it 'cause I asked for some, but they were normal gummy bear flavors – not like the ice cream. And there was chocolate sauce on top. Nurse Gillwick didn't answer me when I asked if I could eat more ice cream for breakfast. I think the answer was gonna be no, but she didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"Man," Jared muttered. "How come she's not like that back at Salem?"

Kurt and Violar laughed.

"She did such a good job on my leg – wanna see? Here, lookit." Julian kicked off his covers.

Violar sat down on the edge of the bed and gently rolled back the hem of Julian's pantleg. There was no bandage, Violar was startled to find. The wound was completely healed, save for a long scar running down his shin.

"Unfortunately," Kurt said, "the nurse told us that because poor Julian was struck by dark magic, he will have a permanent scar on his leg."

Violar made a sympathetic noise in her throat and gave Julian a pitying look.

"But . . ." Kurt ruffled Julian's hair with his claws. "I told him that scars are a sign of character."

Violar gazed at Kurt with a world of affection in her eyes.

_Trust Kurt to say just the right thing to the boy,_ she thought. She studied the multitude of scars coiling over Kurt's cheek and running across his forehead, and she silently agreed. With Kurt Wagner, at least, scars truly were a sign of character.

"Yeah, and besides," Jared chimed in from the doorway. "When you get older, you'll find that the ladies really dig scars." He waggled his eyebrows and beamed at Julian.

Violar tilted her head back and glanced at Jared in annoyance. "They do not," she contended with a wry little smile. "And don't give him any ideas. He'll have trouble enough, in time."

Violar stared hard at Jared, willing him not to argue. She hadn't said as much to anyone, but Julian's dark looks, shining brown eyes and bright smile had already captivated several young girls at Xavier's – one, in particular, who tended to be on the rebellious side: Jenna Newton. Already Violar had to beat Jenna off with a stick, and Jenna and Julian were merely young teenagers. The problem would only get worse with time. The last thing she needed was for Julian to become aware of his handsome charm, or she'd have twice as much trouble on her hands.

Narrowing her eyes at Jared, Violar realized that this young man was no stranger to trouble with women.

Suddenly Violar remembered. "Jimmy! Rosa!" She shot to her feet, her pleading gaze on Jared. "Are they all right?"

"Yeah, they're both fine," Jared replied. "We got Jimmy the antidote for the Fire Rash Curse just in time. He's sacked out in my room. Rosa's taking it easy on the couch downstairs."

Violar felt weak with relief. She rubbed her hand over her forehead – an outward expression of her exhaustion – and glanced at Julian. The boy wouldn't have been lying there now, smiling and laughing, if not for Jimmy O'Bannon's bravery and self-sacrifice. Violar bit her lip, and her heart twisted up as she mentally kicked herself for not asking after Jimmy sooner.

"Please, Jared, will you take me to him?" implored Violar.

"Um, yeah, sure. Follow me."

Violar squeezed Julian's hand, then hugged Kurt once more, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Be good." She released him, smiled, and exited the room behind Jared.

Farther down the hallway, Violar glimpsed a portrait of a stern-looking woman with a wrinkled face and gray hair piled into a bun. The woman's eyes, then head, followed Violar.

Shocked, Violar whirled to face the painting as it spoke.

"Is this another new girlfriend, Jared?"

Startled and instantly uneasy by the implication, Violar opened her mouth to answer – and lost her voice. How did one properly address a portrait?

Jared groaned. "No, Great-Aunt Tempestra. She's just a guest."

Violar drew a shaky breath, staring at the portrait with wide eyes."By the mane. That . . . that painting spoke."

"Yeah." Jared just kept walking. "Lucky friggin' me."

"Mind your tone, young man!" Great-Aunt Tempestra hollered. "And don't roll your eyes at me! Merlin's beard, we never would have tolerated behavior like this from children in my day. If you were my son, I'd cast a Whipping Spell on your backside."

Violar's courage trembled. She tried again to speak, but she didn't know what to say to a portrait – particularly one with so fierce a disposition. Finally, Violar gathered her skirt and dropped into an awkward curtsey, mumbled "Good morning," then whirled and hastened after Jared.

"Hmm. At least someone around here knows proper manners."

Violar didn't dare answer.

Catching up with Jared, Violar glanced over her shoulder and shuddered. "Of all the… the things I have seen upon leaving Narnia," she whispered, as if afraid the painting would overhear her, "that was – by far – the most unbelievable."

"Unbelievable? I'll tell you what's unbelievable. All my years living here, Great-Aunt Tempestra's always on my case about something. My brother Esteban, however, she heaped praise on him every time he walked by." Jared shook his head and muttered, "Crazy old bat."

Violar opened her mouth to reprimand him for casually insulting a family member, then burst into startled laughter. The family member in question was a _painting,_ for Aslan's sake, and Jared had just called it a "Crazy old bat."

Before Violar could reconcile what she'd just encountered, they arrived at another bedroom and walked inside the open doorway. A poster on the wall caught Violar's attention first. It depicted men and women flying around on brooms, and red words that sparkled like rubies read, "Boston Bandits."

After making sure that no one in the picture was alive enough to talk with her, Violar tore her attention away from the poster and found Jimmy O'Bannon sleeping in the bed.

Swallowing hard, Violar quietly approached the bed with Jared beside her. Jimmy's red face looked as if it had been badly sunburnt from overexposure to the Calormene sun. Remembering Rosa's warning about how a Fire Rash Curse could burn a person's skin to cinder within half an hour, Violar drew a shaky breath and felt her vision blur with unshed tears. All the excruciating pain he'd endured on behalf of Julian Rodriguez hadn't been in vain, and thank Aslan for that. But Jimmy could have died an agonizing death.

And Violar would have never had the chance to apologize to him.

Jimmy drew a deeper breath and stirred, then slowly opened his eyes.

"Violar?" Jimmy said groggily. "Wha . . . What happened? Where . . ." He blinked a few times. "Jared?" He looked around, wincing and scratching his arms. "Is this your room? What am I doing here?"

"Aunt Adelaide and Uncle Cesario brought you here. You got nailed good with a Fire Rash Curse, but you're all healed up now. Well, Nurse Gillwick said you'll probably be scratching yourself for the next two days, but better that than having your skin all burned off."

"You got that right," Jimmy said.

"Other than that . . ." Jared smiled wide. "I heard you and Rosa kicked some serious ass out there. Way to go, man. Wish I coulda been with you."

The two bumped their fists together. Violar stood very still, and her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar gesture.

"Thanks, man." Jimmy flashed Jared a brief smile. "Is Rosa okay?"

"Yeah, just a nasty knock on the head, not that there's anything important up there anyway."

Violar started at the comment, then wondered why Jared and Jimmy shared a chuckle. Rosa seemed bright enough, in Violar's opinion.

Whatever else Violar might have thought about the exchange was immediately forgotten when Jimmy looked up at her. Violar grew deeply sober. Their eyes locked for a long moment, and they stared at each other in silence. Everything inside of Violar began to crumble, and she clasped her hands, fighting back a surge of tears that boiled just beneath the surface. She struggled to hold Jimmy's gaze, but it was no use. Her own guilt crushed her. She cast her eyes to the floor.

"Hey, Jared." Jimmy looked up at him. "You mind giving us a sec."

Jared's eyes flickered between Jimmy and Violar. "Um, sure. Yell if you need anything."

Jared turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Shortly after his departure, Violar missed Jared's presence. Alone with Jimmy, the tension and the uneasy silence threatened to smother her – if the lump in her throat didn't choke her first. Her gaze remained on the floor.

"I, um…" Violar gestured helplessly in Jimmy's direction. She didn't know what to say, but desperation to say something – anything – drove her onward. "I'm sorry that you're not… feeling well. There's … I have a… I made a salve for burns that might help, but it's back at the… at Xavier's. If you like, I can arrange for Kurt to take me back there, and I can bring it…"

She trailed off. One more word would've sent the tears spilling down her cheeks, and she fought her emotions as long as she could – though she knew that she'd be crying before much longer. She clasped her hands so tightly that her knuckles ached, and she silently prayed that Jimmy would answer – quickly.

It took a bit, but her prayers were eventually answered. "Um, yeah. That, uh . . . that's really nice of you. Thanks."

The knots in Violar's stomach loosened. "You're welcome," she replied softly. "It'd be… an honor." She didn't know what else to say.

"How's the kid doing?" Jimmy asked.

"Julian? He's doing well, thanks to you. Your school nurse, Madam Gillwick, did a magnificent job healing him."

"Thank God." Jimmy leaned back in his pillows, then scratched both arms and his neck. Seconds later, he sighed. "I still can't believe I did that."

Inconspicuously wiping the moisture from her eyes, Violar was only too grateful to pursue whatever course of conversation Jimmy wanted. "Did what?"

Jimmy paused. "Throw myself in front of that curse. Hell, I had no idea what that Death Eater was shooting. And I . . . crap, I coulda been killed."

Violar bit her lip, watching Jimmy shudder and clench his jaw. "You mustn't think on that," she offered gently. "It was a battle. Everything happens so fast… Life and death collide in a matter of seconds, and your decisions are made on instinct."

"You know," Jimmy said. "I've seen all these war movies where some guy takes a bullet for a buddy, and I wonder, would I do something like that? Could I actually give up my life for someone else? And when we were back at the mansion, and that curse came flyin' . . ." He emitted a humorless laugh. "I didn't even think about it. I don't even know that kid and I . . ."

Violar suddenly rushed forward, her gray eyes burning with intense emotion. She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly in her own. Jimmy's eyes widened in surprise. His gaze dropped to Violar's hand covering his.

"Jimmy…" Drawing a shallow breath, Violar shook her head and dropped to her knees beside him. "Don't talk that way. I… you're…" She bit her lip against a sniffle, glanced at the ceiling as though praying for strength, then brought her shiny eyes back to Jimmy. "In such a moment, who you truly are is brought to the surface. War is a test of character. You don't have time to . . . to weigh the consequences of your actions. You simply react. And in those instinctive actions, your heart is revealed." Her voice cracked. "I was mistaken about you," she went on, tears coursing down her cheeks. "If I hadn't already known, then what you did for Julian proved it beyond doubt. Centaurs aren't often wrong, but…" She choked. "I'm sorry…"

Violar buried her face in Jimmy's quilt and sobbed. She tightened her hands into fists, struggling to stay in control.

"Um . . . hey, look." Jimmy's words penetrated her crying. She also felt his other hand gently rest on her back, and she turned her head away.

"It's all right, okay? He continued. "Don't worry about it."

"It is by no means 'all right.'" Violar looked up at him with a firmness that brooked no argument. She wearily brushed away her tears, then glanced around. Finding a chair, she rose and dragged it to Jimmy's bedside, and she sat down with a heavy sigh.

"Not that it excuses my actions," began Violar quietly, clasping her hands and leaning forward, "but in my world, all wielders of magic are evil. They killed my father, and they were indirectly responsible for the death of my brokenhearted mother a month later. I saw many of my friends tortured and killed at their hands." Her eyes darkened with pain. "There was even a winged horse who… in the heat of battle… did what you did for Julian. He leapt in front of a spell and… and he gave his life for mine."

Jimmy just stared at her, mouth agape. She waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

Violar's lip trembled, though she resolutely held herself together. "Regardless of what they did, you didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my resentment towards them. My own bitterness clouded my judgment towards you, and Rosa, and even the mutants whom I consider family. I hurt a lot of people today." She pursed her lips regretfully and lowered her head.

Jimmy scratched his torso and neck, then reached out and grasped her hands. Violar stared at him in bewilderment, but she didn't pull away.

"Um, look. I said something pretty nasty things to you, too. And, well, drawing my wand on you and your friends wasn't the friendliest thing I've ever done."

Violar managed a small smile as Jimmy went on. "I'm sorry, Violar. I'm sorry if anything I said hurt you. It's just . . . well, like you said, it's no excuse, but I tend to be hypersensitive when someone makes a blanket statement about a certain group of people."

Violar's smile faded. "How so?"

"Remember when we were talking about the difference between Muggle-borns and purebloods and all that, and the way some purebloods view Muggle-borns?" Violar nodded. Jimmy snorted, then went on. "Well I've faced my own share of that prejudice."

Everything suddenly made sense. She pursed her lips regretfully.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy," she said quietly. "You, of all people, didn't deserve that kind of scorn from anyone." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He gave her a dismissive wave, then scratched his arms and chest. "Believe me, when some jagoff starts spewing crap about pureblood supremacy, I don't put up with it."

Violar opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She glanced away with a wry smile. "You're not helping," she teased lightly, though her embarrassment was genuine.

"Huh? Oh." He glanced away for a second, perhaps remembering their confrontations from just a few hours prior. "Yeah, sorry."

Violar gently pressed his hand.

After a pause, Jimmy said, "Look, along with all the apologizing, I should probably thank you, too."

"For what?" A bewildered look fell over Violar's face.

"For what?" Jimmy repeated, scratching his neck. "For jumping into the fight when those Death Eaters attacked IHOP. For holding off that werewolf while we all got away. You . . . you probably saved my life, and Rosa's. So thanks."

Violar's eyes widened, then dawned with comprehension. She hadn't even thought of her actions in such a light. It had merely been… instinct.

Her own words about instinct in the midst of battle came back to her, and a surge of tears rushed to the surface. Violar lowered her head, sniffling and brushing one hand over her damp cheeks. Jimmy gripped her other hand in his own and gently ran his thumb over it.

A comforting warmth laced with electricity rippled along Violar's nerves. Her tears smoothed away into a more peaceful calm.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You know," Jimmy said. "One of the things Rosa's parents and Jared's parents told me about the first war against You-Know-Who is that one of his favorite tactics is to turn friends against one another. I don't want that to happen here, Violar. I really want to be friends with you . . . and the other X-Men, because I think the only way we're gonna get through this war is if we all stick together."

Violar looked up at him and studied his face for a long moment, running his words through her mind. Suddenly a flash of pure terror ignited in her silver eyes, and she pulled her hand from Jimmy's grasp as she shot out of her chair.

A perplexed look formed on Jimmy's face. "Violar?"

"Friends," she echoed as if she hadn't heard him, pacing anxiously toward the Boston Bandits poster. She stopped at the wall and pressed her fingers hard into her temples. Every nerve was on edge, and Violar resisted the urge to bolt.

Just as suddenly, Violar turned back toward Jimmy, though she made no move to close the distance between them. "Friends," she repeated carefully, tangling her fingers and forcing herself to breathe. "Friends. I, um… that would be good." She nodded unsteadily, blinking at the floor.

The perplexed expression remained on Jimmy's face. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Violar waved her hand dismissively, but she avoided his gaze and tried not to stammer. "I just… have claustrophobia. It gets aggravated after I spend too much time in an enclosed space. I think I'd better go. I need some air…"

Jimmy said nothing, just stared at her. Violar could tell from his eyes that he had trouble believing her excuse. She drew a shaky breath and managed a smile, fright and sadness still warring for possession of her features. "I'd hoped… that we could be friends. Thank you." Swallowing hard, she moved toward the door. "I'd better go fetch you that salve before you scratch yourself into madness. I hope it helps…"

With one final nod in Jimmy's direction, Violar pulled open the door and made a hasty exit.

"Violar. Violar, wait a sec!"

A whimper escaped the distraught centaur as she gathered her skirts and bolted down the hallway. She ran right past the painting of Great-Aunt Tempestra.

"No running in the house! Where are your manners?"

Violar ignored Great-Aunt Tempestra's shouting as she rounded a corner, and landed in Kurt Wagner's arms.

"Liebling?" uttered the surprised blue mutant, blinking down at her. "Was ist das?"

Shaking all over, Violar buried her face in his chest.

"Get me out of here," came her muffled plea.

_BAMF._

Kurt and Violar vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.


	11. Building A Foundation

Violar could barely sleep the rest of the night. Too many images assaulted her mind: The furious battle with the werewolf, the cries of the injured people at IHOP, the flying curses that nearly killed Julian and Jimmy – and, of course, her near breakdown in front of Jimmy.

Even now, Violar felt bewildered – and lost. Kurt had teleported her directly into the backyard and held her under the shadows of winter trees until her tears and quivers eased. Then, placing one large finger beneath her chin, Kurt lifted her face until her eyes met his soft, glowing gaze.

"What is it, liebling?"

Violar had just shaken her head and leaned wearily against Kurt. She'd expected the question. After Kurt Wagner married Tessa Niles a few months before, they had unofficially adopted Violar – in a manner of speaking. Although the centaur had at least fifteen years on both of them, Violar depended on the couple as if they were her parents.

"I don't know, Kurt," muttered Violar, sounding tired. "I think I've just had a long day. Too much danger… fighting… people getting hurt. People I love brushing with death. So many bad memories and… and… I can't take any more."

Kurt nodded and left it at that, looking past Violar at the shadowed house and its yellow-lit windows as he rubbed her back. In a moment he picked out the window that belonged to the library, then leaned close to whisper in her ear.

"I'll take you back now."

Violar nodded, and they were suddenly in the library with the lively books on their shelves. Violar paid no attention to them as she wished Kurt goodnight, then turned out all the lights, changed into her centaur form, and curled up under the thick quilt.

She tossed and turned, thrashing her legs restlessly. She knew there was more to her outburst with Jimmy than just the events of the past few days. Since St. John's ice blue eyes haunted her thoughts with awful clarity, Violar realized there was a connection between the panic she felt around Jimmy and her brief, near-fatal encounter with the fire-controlling teenaged mutant. With a groan, Violar rolled flat onto her stomach and turned bleary eyes to the library window, watching the sky blush through shades of blue and cream and peach until the sun rose.

She sat up and combed her fingers through disheveled hair, then sniffed the air. Hinted aromas of waffles and sizzling bacon sparked her ravenous appetite, and the growling of her stomach combined with emotional and physical exhaustion only made her feel grouchy.

"Nothing's going to change," she sighed aloud, touching her sapphire choker and shifting into her smaller humanoid form. "Unless…"

Violar knew what she had to do. Swallowing her pride, she left the library and wandered down the hallway. So quiet were her footfalls that not even the painting of Great-Aunt Tempestra heard her pass by.

Uncertainty churned inside Violar. Apologizing to Jimmy wouldn't be easy. She'd been around him long enough to know his sensitive and temperamental nature, and the thought of facing him now – especially in her miserable condition – was about as appealing as crossing paths with a Death Eater.

_Not that bad,_ she chided herself, squaring her shoulders. _Don't equate Jimmy with them – ever again. Now pluck up your courage and face the music._

She neared Jimmy's room. The door was halfway open, and some instinct flared inside Violar that pulled her up short just as a familiar voice floated to her sharp ears.

"That's all you said?" It was Rosa's voice. "Nothing suggestive, you weren't coming on strong or anything?"

Violar instantly drew back from the doorway.

"Heck, no," she heard Jimmy respond. "I just told her I want to be friends with her, and she, like, went mental."

Violar bit her lip and lowered her head, mortified. She knew what the term "mental" in New York slang meant, and she found it very applicable to her reaction from the night before. She turned away from the door, intending to walk away. Eavesdropping was not a pastime condoned by well-mannered centaurs. But Violar found herself rooted to the spot, and she listened intently.

"Why would she do that?" asked Jared.

"I don't know."

There was a pause before Jared spoke. "It's like I always say, girls are insane."

Violar almost smiled, amused and irritated with his point of view.

"Will you be serious?" Rosa scolded him.

"I was being serious."

Jimmy sighed. "Man, it's like Mireet in reverse."

"How do you mean?" asked Jared.

"Well, back at Hogwarts, when I asked Mireet to be my girlfriend, she kinda freaked out and said she just wanted to be friends." Violar detected a trace of regret in Jimmy's voice. "Now I ask Violar to be my friend, and she freaks out over that."

"Dude!" Jared blurted. "Then that means she probably wants to be your girlfriend!"

Violar's purple-rimmed eyes jolted wide, and she barely stifled a horrified gasp. She pressed her back to the wall. She really needed to leave…

Rosa groaned. "Talk about a stretch of logic."

"Okay, okay. Maybe girlfriend is going too far. Maybe she just wants to have her way with you with no strings attached."

Shock and outrage slammed into the centaur. She threw a hand over her mouth to smother a cry. _What?_

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Jared." Violar could perfectly visualize Rosa's face twisted in anger as she admonished her cousin. "Just shut up if you don't have anything useful to say . . . and stop making stupid faces at me! What are you, five?"

Violar swallowed hard, feeling sick to her stomach. Her appetite had vanished without a trace. Even if Rosa had run Jared through a gauntlet of the most painful insults she could dream up, nothing would have eased Violar's indignation.

_Challenge him to a duel!_ thought Violar wildly, her gray eyes smoldering with fury. Never mind the fact that Jimmy had no reason to protect her honor…

"Look, Jimmy." Violar heard Rosa speak. "When it comes to Violar, do you want to be friends with her, or more than friends?"

Violar stopped breathing. She fisted her hands in her thick skirt, coming face to face with a question that even she didn't know how to answer. Cold tendrils of fear coiled through her stomach.

"I don't know." Violar trembled, frowning at a mixture of relief and disappointment that swept through her as Jimmy went on. "I mean she's hot, she's smart, she'd seems confident, and she can kick some serious ass, which makes her even hotter."

A slow smile curved Violar's lips, though she was puzzled by her own reaction. She'd never heard herself described in such terms before. That snapped her back to reality: _I shouldn't be listening to this. I need to go…_

She took another step away, but she strained to catch Jimmy's next words.

"But jeez," Jimmy continued, "I've only known her for barely a day, and one hell of a day at that. So . . . I don't know. After everything that's happened, maybe I just gotta give it some time."

Relief cooled Violar's nerves. At least one New Yorker wasn't in a hurry when it came to pushing relationships along.

"Well it's nice to know one boy in here can actually use his brain." Violar could picture Rosa shooting Jared a withering stare. Violar hadn't known Jared long, but already she knew he'd just ignore it.

Rosa went on. "You're right. Look at everything that's happened over the past twenty-four hours. We just met Violar and her friends, we get attacked by Death Eaters, we find out she's a centaur from another world and that her friends are mutants, they find out we're wizards, we wind up fighting each other, then we all have to fight Death Eaters for a second time. That's a lot to digest."

Violar could have hugged Rosa.

"When you put it that way," Jimmy said, "I guess you're right."

Violar decided she'd definitely hug Rosa the next time she saw her.

"Of course I'm right. So just give her some time to get used to all this before you start putting the ol' O'Bannon charm on her."

Violar had to choke down a laugh.

"Heh!" Jimmy snorted. "After what happened with Mireet and Rana, I'm starting to wonder if I have any O'Bannon charm."

"Hey, blame that damn Projection Potion for you and Rana breaking up," Jared told him. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have to worry about puttin' the moves on the centaur chick."

Violar's smile vanished and her temper flared. Whatever he'd seemed to be the day before, Violar now knew that Jared was dangerous. Narnian or New Yorker, what woman could trust a man who continually objectified her – and all other women at the same time? She glared at the door, angry and helpless to stop him – which only made her angrier.

"All right, guys, we've spent enough time talking about Jimmy's pathetic love life," said Jared. "Let's go downstairs and get some breakfast."

"Sounds good to me," Jimmy agreed. "I'm friggin' starving."

Violar hurried down the hall and ducked in the bathroom as Jimmy, Jared and Rosa emerged from the room.

"Mental?" Jared turned to Jimmy. "Is that one of those British words you picked up over there?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I should start using it."

"Keep your voices down!" shouted Great-Aunt Tempestra's portrait. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

All three teens gave the witch's image a brief wave and muttered, "Yeah . . . uh-uh . . . whatever," in tones that indicated they had no intention of obeying her command.

As their footsteps faded, Violar cautiously emerged. She glanced around, then sagged against the wall with a heartsick sigh. Her mind whirled, and she pressed a hand to her aching temples.

_That's the price all eavesdroppers pay for their transgressions,_ she chided herself. _Then again, isn't it better to know?_

She wasn't sure.

"YAAAAGGHH!"

Violar whirled as a colorful blur rushed toward her. Gleeful laughter and small arms engulfed her in a tight hug, and Violar jolted in shock. She looked shakily down into the sparkling chocolate gaze of Julian Rodriguez.

"Scared'ja!" declared the boy triumphantly, grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Uh," Violar managed with a weak chuckle, ruffling his hair.

Dark laughter drew her attention to the shadows at the end of the hall. Yellow eyes gleamed above a sharp-toothed smile.

"My apprentice's career is off to a fine start, ja?"

Violar groaned again and lowered her head. "Sorry, you two. I'm not… feeling up to pranks this morning, especially scary ones."

Kurt stepped out of the shadows, his expression apologetic. "Did you not sleep well?"

Violar looked up at him. "Knock the 'well' off that sentence, and you have your answer," she replied grimly.

Kurt drew close and wrapped his tail supportively around the centaur's waist, offering her a brief squeeze with it. "Ah, liebling. Will it make you feel better to eat breakfast?"

Just the thought of seeing the three young wizards twisted Violar's stomach into icy knots. "Uh, thank you, but I think I'm just going to lie down for awhile."

Kurt's indigo eyebrows formed a question mark as his tail slid away from her waist. He'd never known Violar to turn down food.

"But you _have_ to come!" interrupted Julian, bouncing impatiently and pulling at her hand. "Don't you smell the bacon?"

Violar gulped. "Ah, yes, I do—"

"Where there's bacon, there's cinnamon rolls!" crowed Julian.

Violar tested the air automatically and caught a hint of warm cinnamon. "Excellent deduction, Julian," she remarked, giving the boy a genuine smile. "Go on down and—"  
"Hash browns! I bet they have hash browns too. Do you like salsa on them?"

"Salsa?" Violar's brow furrowed. "I don't know, but I—"

Julian tugged on her hand. "C'mon! Try it, try it! It's really good – you'll see!"

"Er, I…" Violar dug in her heels and attempted to free her hand from the enthusiastic boy's grasp. "Maybe some other time—"

"Violar." Kurt lightly pressed her shoulder, and Violar looked at him. "You need to keep up your strength," he said quietly. "You can lie down afterwards."

Violar felt her resolve crumble and her fright ease under Kurt's gentle persuasion. Her growling stomach agreed wholeheartedly with Kurt.

She nodded meekly. "Alright."

"Yeah!" Julian hollered, nearly yanking the centaur off her feet as he dashed down the hallway. "Come on!"

"No running and no shouting!" ordered the stern painting as Julian rushed by.

Violar glanced up at Great-Aunt Tempestra. "Sorry," she managed as Julian pulled her around the corner with Kurt close behind.

Violar could hardly move her feet fast enough to avoid being dragged down the stairs. By the time they arrived in the kitchen, Violar was grinning against her will. She sniffed eagerly at the delicious scents drifting through the kitchen. Her eyes widened when she looked toward the stove. Wooden spoons stirred scrambled eggs . . . by themselves! A few plates containing waffles and bacon floated across the room and landed gently on the table, where Jimmy, Rosa, Jared, the Infantes and the Diazes sat eating.

"Whoa! This is so cool!" Julian grinned wide as he gawked at the plates and spoons moving of their own accord.

All heads snapped over to him.

"Good morning," Jared's mother, Liana, greeted them.

"Guten Morgen," Kurt responded in his warm baritone.

Liana smiled at Julian, "How are you feeling, Julian?"

"Good. Really hungry!"

"Well, we can fix that." With a wave of her wand, Liana filled three plates with waffles, eggs and cinnamon rolls and levitated them to the table.

Violar watched in wonder, staying close to Kurt's side. Finally, after they'd seated themselves, the centaur found her voice.

"Thank you all for… not just for this incredible breakfast, but for everything. You've done so much for my friends and me."

"Think nothing of it." Liana smiled and nodded. "Especially after what all of you went through last night. I'm just glad you're all right."

Violar lowered her head, gazing somberly at her cinnamon roll. "Your hospitality does you credit," she replied softly. "Thank you again."

"We should be thanking you." Adelaide jaw clenched for a moment as she reached over and gently gripped Rosa's arm. "You likely saved our daughter's life by killing that werewolf."

Next to her, Cesario Infante nodded and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Mom." Rosa rolled her eyes, looking rather embarrassed.

Violar blushed, then tried her best to even the score. "Rosa saved our lives as well, good people. It was she who sealed the door to the lounge with an ordinary sofa. She has the strength and courage of three warriors, and I would gladly fight beside her again, if the need arises."

Rosa's eyes widened. She just stared at Violar in silence for several long seconds, shock blazing across her face. Violar bit her lip, thinking back to last night. It didn't surprise her that Rosa was shocked by her compliment, considering how fiercely they'd battled one another only hours before.

"Um, thanks," Rosa finally managed to say.

"You're quite welcome." Violar flashed her a smile.

With a silent prayer to Aslan, Violar took a fork – inspecting it closely for magical tendencies and finding none – and dug into her breakfast. Everything was so good, and she was starving. After making a healthy dent in her portion of eggs and bacon, Violar found the courage to look up at Jimmy and Rosa.

"How are you feeling, Rosa? Is your head all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a concussion. Nurse Gillwick healed me up well. I just have to take it easy for a day or two."

Violar smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Taking it easy will be difficult, I don't doubt, but Julian and I know a few games to keep you occupied – if you're interested."

A smile slowly spread across her face. "Why not? And maybe I can show you some of our games, like Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess."

Violar returned her smile. This was a big step toward the end of hostilities between them. "I shall be delighted."

"You ought to like Wizard's Chess, Julian." Mr. Infante smiled at the boy. "The pieces actually fight and smash one another."

Julian's eyes lit up. "Cool!"

Even Violar looked curious. She glanced at Kurt, who was equally intrigued, then smiled at Mr. Infante. "I should like a turn also, if you'd permit me."

"Yeah," Jared looked to Violar, Kurt and Julian, "and if you want an easy win, play Jimmy. He's terrible at Wizard's Chess."

Jimmy glowered at Jared. "Yeah, like you're some kinda grandmaster."

Violar chuckled, then turned a shy, nervous gaze to Jimmy. It wouldn't have been polite to ignore him. "How are you feeling, Jimmy?"

"Other than itching like crazy, I'm fine." As if to emphasize the point, he furiously scratched one arm, then the other.

Violar winced sympathetically. "I'm so sorry that I haven't yet fetched that burn salve," she offered quietly. "I promise, I'll take the earliest opportunity to do so."

"We can get it after breakfast." Jimmy gave a brief "don't worry about it" wave. "All that fighting probably built up a heck of an appetite."

Violar suddenly smiled, her eyes sparkling. "That it has, Jimmy," she observed, burying her fork in the cinnamon roll.

"Unfortunately, I wouldn't know." Jared frowned.

Violar turned to him, and her gray eyes instantly hardened like flint and cold steel. Her jaw tightened as he continued. "Man, I wish I coulda been with you guys."

"Jared." Mrs. Infante turned to her nephew, a stern look on her face. "What happened last night was not a Quidditch game. It was a battle, a battle where Jimmy and Rosa could have died." Violar noticed the witch's jaw quiver briefly.

"I know it was something serious, Aunt Adelaide. I'm just saying I wish I coulda been there because, well, heck, we're talking about my best friend and my best cousin here. Stuff like that goes down, you know, I oughta be there to watch their backs."

Violar's neutral stare came back to Jared, then fell to her plate. Those were noble words, and he meant them wholeheartedly – she was certain of that. How could such a brave young man and a loyal friend lack so much gentlemanly courtesy? Frowning, she picked up a strip of bacon and munched at it, savoring the salty meat and wondering why people were so complicated.

Adelaide said nothing, but Violar glimpsed the brief, proud smile she sent in Jared's direction.

"You da man, bro." Jimmy extended a fist, which Jared bumped.

Violar couldn't have agreed more.

"Merlin's beard, you actually do care. I'm touched." Sarcasm filled Rosa's tone, though she gave Jared a warm smile.

"Yeah, I'm just full of surprises." Jared downed whatever was in his goblet, then turned to Liana. "Hey, Mom. Can I get some more pumpkin juice?"

Liana waved her wand. A bottle of orangish liquid rose from the counter, floated over, and poured itself into Jared's goblet.

"Pumpkin juice!" exclaimed Julian. Then, with a glance at Violar – which caused him to remember his manners – he implored Liana. "Please, may I have some?"

"Certainly, young man." She directed the pitcher to Julian's goblet.

Julian stared at the pouring juice. "Am I 'sposed to thank the pitcher?"

Violar giggled and shared a grin with Kurt. More laughter rippled around the table.

"Oh dude," Jimmy chuckled. "Seven years in the Wizarding World and I never even thought to do that."

"No, Julian, you don't have to thank the pitcher," Liana told him, still smiling. "I'm just manipulating it with my wand."

"But that's so cool." Julian's eyes grew enormous, and he bounced in his chair. "How do you do it?"

"It's just a simple charm."

"Yeah, but how does it work?"

The wizards and witches looked at one another in silence for several seconds. Finally, Jared shrugged his shoulders. "Um, well it just . . . does, you know?"

Violar anxiously glanced from one face to another, immediately suspicious that they were guarding some dark secret. But she saw no hint of deceit in the open expressions around her. Then it occurred to Violar that, for magical folk, using simple charms were as commonplace as animals talking in Narnia.

"Nevertheless," breathed Violar, "it's enchanting. It reminds me so much of the dishes in Disney's _Beauty and the Beast._"

Kurt's yellow eyes locked on Violar. "You like that movie?"

"Of all the stories I've encountered thus far in this world, it's my favorite," replied Violar softly.

Kurt smiled, looking pleased. Mystery haunted his accented voice. "I will remember that, liebling."

"You never showed us that movie at your place, did you?" Jared asked Jimmy.

He gave a disgusted grunt. "Heck no. Why would I show you guys that movie? Nothing blows up in it."

Violar suddenly laughed. "I beg your pardon!" she retorted, but her gray eyes were alight with amusement. "If you remember, Belle's father blew up their cottage right at the beginning of the movie."

"Big deal, one thing. In _Die Hard _stuff was getting blown up, shot up or beaten up every five minutes."

"Is that how you measure the quality of a movie?" Violar asked. "By the level of destruction?"

"Pretty much." Jimmy nodded, as did Jared. Even Rosa sported an approving smile.

Violar looked puzzled until Kurt leaned close to her. "Liebling, I came from a background where movies were not commonplace. For people who have grown up with them, who know that the actors walk away from Armageddon in fine health, the explosions are…" He gave a sharp-toothed grin. "More exciting."

Understanding illuminated the centaur's face. "I see."

"Do all the dishes know how to cook, or do they have to read a cookbook first?" Julian wanted to know. Suddenly he blinked. "Wait, how can they read cookbooks if they haven't got eyes?"

Violar laughed behind a sip of pumpkin juice, which she found much tangier than any SOBE.

Everyone else at the table also laughed. Warmth enveloped Violar as she observed the scene, knowing that the laughter was directed at Julian's innocent cuteness rather than his ignorance.

"No, Julian." It was Mrs. Infante who answered. "We're the ones who have to read the cookbooks. The dishes and utensils are just, well, tools. They have no thoughts of their own."

Julian nodded, digesting that. "So, if you can make anything move, can you make musical instruments play by themselves?"

"We sure can," said Jared's father, Irving Diaz. "But in order to play them well, some extra skill is required. Not every spell or charm is simple."

"And we won't even talk about how tough potion-making is, especially with Jimmy here." Jared shot him a toothy grin.

Jimmy twisted his lips. "Yeah, funny." He turned to Violar. "This from the guy whose butt I'm always kicking in duels in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class."

A sudden gleam ignited in the centaur's eyes, setting them afire as she stared at Jimmy. So he _had _challenged Jared to a duel before! And he had, in his own words, kicked Jared's butt. The knowledge gave her a thrill of hope. Perhaps Jimmy's decision _not_ to challenge Jared to a duel was, in and of itself, gallantry.

_Although the mere threat of a duel would have been nice,_ Violar contemplated, smiling quietly to herself. _That'd teach him to be a gentleman._

Julian's eyes lit up. "Can you make people fly?"

"We can levitate a person," said Liana. "But actually flying? No, a broom is required for that."

"A broom? Really? Like the witch in _The Wizard of Oz?"_

Violar grimaced, suddenly uneasy. "Ah, Julian, I don't think it's quite the same," she interjected. She glanced around the table, wondering how these people would react to being equated with an evil character from a movie.

"Well, it kinda is," Jimmy said. "The flying part, anyway. I don't know any witches who have green skin and cackle maniacally all the time."

Relief prompted Violar's laugh. Before Julian could ask any more questions, she pushed aside her empty plate, then rose from the table with a gentle curtsey.

"Thank you all so much for a delicious feast at this hour of the morning. Forgive me for leaving your delightful company so soon, but I do not wish to tarry any longer in bringing the burn salve." She glanced at Jimmy and risked a smile. He flashed her a brief smile, and she noticed his gaze remaining on her. Not the sort of gaze Jared gave her at their first meeting, but more . . . respectful? Admiring?

Violar's expression softened with sincerity and gratitude as she nodded to him.

Jared's face scrunched up. "Tarry? What the heck kind of word is that?"

Violar shifted a sly smile to Jared. "If you don't know what the heck kind of word it is, look it up in the heck kind of dictionary."

Both Jimmy and Rosa burst out laughing, with Jimmy slashing a finger in the air in Jared's direction and crying out, "Burn!"

Violar's eyes blinked wide in shock. She stared at Jared as if expecting him to burst into flames. But Jared merely scrunched his face at his two friends, then chuckled to himself, and Violar followed suit with a bewildered shake of her head.

"Rosa, do you mind if . . ." Violar bit her lip. "Oh, forgive me. I was going to ask if you would, er, App-a-rate me back to Xavier's to get the salve for Jimmy. But with your concussion . . ."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Apparating isn't that strenuous . . . at least for witches and wizards. Once you get the hang of it, it's almost as natural as walking."

"And have you, er, gotten the hang of it?" Violar asked.

"Heh! Sure. We all learned how to Apparate last year at Salem. Well, Jared and I did at Salem. Jimmy learned it over at Hogwarts." Rosa stood up. "Let me get my coat and we'll go."

"I'll stay and watch over the boy as he mercilessly quizzes our new friends," said Kurt.

"And don't worry," Liana smiled at Violar. "We'll be happy to answer any question he may have."

"Thank you," returned Violar softly. She leaned down and gently hugged the blue mutant's neck. "Danke, Kurt. Auf Wiedersehen."

Rosa led Violar out of the dining room amid a chorus of goodbyes. As they stepped out of the house, Violar took a deep breath of clear morning air. Spring was just on the horizon – she could taste it.

"So, shall we Apparate?" asked Violar, holding out her hand to Rosa.

"Not yet. We still have to clear all of the wards and security charms around the house, and we put up a lot more than usual since . . . well, since You-Know-Who came back."

"Ah, that's a wise precaution," Violar noted with a warrior's admiration. "And it's a lovely morning for a walk. Shall we go?"

They continued across the large expanse of lawn, a line of trees ahead of them. Violar soon noticed that Rosa slowed her pace and was staring down at the grass.

"Um, is everything all right?" Violar asked hesitantly, memories of their brief confrontation in Professor Xavier's the night before flashing through her mind. "Is it your concussion?"

"What?" Rosa stopped and looked to her. "Oh no, it's just . . ." She chewed on her lip, her eyes darting in all directions. Violar tilted her head, wondering what was going through the other girl's mind.

"Um . . ." Rosa drew a deep breath. "You know, what my parents said back there, they were right. You did save my life. After . . . after I was casting spells and hexes and curses at you and your friends, you . . . you still risked your life to save mine and Jimmy's."

Shaking her head firmly, Violar waved her hand. "Don't give it another thought."

"I just . . . I should." Another pause by Rosa. "I haven't thanked you for doing that, and I really should. Thank you, Violar."

She extended her hand. Violar recognized what a gift that kind of gratitude was, coming from a strong and independent woman like Rosa. Violar grasped Rosa's hand between both of hers and accepted it with equal intensity.

"It was an honor to fight beside you, Rosa. You truly are a magnificent warrior, and it's hard to believe that a centaur like myself could be an asset when you're the one who possesses magic powers."

Rosa's mouth hung open silently for a few seconds. "Um . . . thank you. You know, you may not have a wand, but you're wicked good with those swords. I definitely wouldn't mind having you around in a tight spot."

"Wicked good?" repeated the centaur with an incredulous smile. She flushed. "Thank you so much." Abruptly she grew serious. "There is something else I've been meaning to tell you, Rosa. I am so sorry for the way I treated you and your friends. As I explained to Jimmy, things are very different in my world, and all those who wield magic are enemies of Aslan, of freedom… and of Narnia. But I allowed my own past hurts to cloud my judgment, and you and your friends suffered unjustly because of it. Yet you put your lives on the line to protect us. We couldn't have defended Xavier's without you."

"Thanks, but we all did our part. Team effort, you know. At least, that's what Jimmy would say. And the way you handled that werewolf, You-Know-Who's scumbags are gonna think twice before messing with you."

Violar chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm a healer, Rosa. I became a warrior because evil and circumstance forced my hand to the sword. But you – I watched you handle yourself in battle. You have a remarkably natural grace under fire."

"Thanks, but when you grow up in a family that chock full of aurors, or people in other dangerous lines of work, I guess that sort of thing rubs off on you."

Violar raised her eyebrows. "Have you always wanted to be an… auror?" she asked, trying out the unfamiliar word. But she guessed at its meaning easily enough.

"As long as I can remember," Rosa answered.

"And Jared?" Violar wondered, remembering the boy's intense disappointment that he hadn't been involved in the battle.

"Jared?" Rosa's jaw dropped. "Him an auror? With all the work that goes into it? Yeah, right. No, he's not interested in doing that. Actually, he's talking about digging around old wizarding villages, what the Muggles call _ark . . . arko . . . ark-lej . . . _Aw, hell, what that Indiana Jones guy does in those movies Jimmy showed us."

"I don't know what it's called either," answered Violar with a shrug."I am not familiar Master Jones' work. And what about Jimmy?"

Rosa worked her jaw back and forth. "I don't think he knows what he wants to do yet, and we're only a few months away from graduation. Although, when we were involved in that whole Projection Potion thing at Salem, there was this auror from Britain who helped us named Tonks. She said Jimmy would make a good auror."

Violar's expression softened into a smile. "She's right. Jimmy is a natural leader, he works well as part of a team, he _hates_ injustice," added the centaur with a little laugh, "and he deeply cares about protecting people – even perfect strangers."

"He thinks you're pretty cool, you know?" Rosa stated.

Violar's gaze instantly snapped up to Rosa, full of apprehension. "I… I know. And it's a great honor, especially from someone like him. I think well of him also. But I just…" Violar glanced at the sky. "It's been _one day,_ Rosa."

"Look," Rosa's voice softened. "I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just putting it out there. But if . . . if you don't think you want to . . . well, _be _with Jimmy, just do me a favor. Please let him down easy. The last year or so hasn't been the best for him when it comes to relationships."

Violar's heart seized up, and she gestured ahead of them. "Can we keep walking? There are a few things I should tell you, but I don't know how. I'm still coming to grips with most of this – even now, at this very moment."

Rosa gave her a curious stare. "Um, sure. Okay."

Violar clasped her hands behind her back and sighed, her thoughtful stare on the ground. When she finally spoke, it felt like a leap from a cliff. "Jimmy is a wonderful, wonderful person. I admire him very much. More than that, I don't know, and I'm half afraid to find out. And I don't want to find out after it's too late." She glanced at Rosa, wondering if her words made sense. "I would avoid hurting Jimmy at all costs. He deserves better than that – far better. I'm…" She huffed softly. "I'm complicated, Rosa – and not just because I'm a centaur from Narnia. How can Jimmy truly understand what he's getting himself into, if he decides he wants to… as you say… be with me?"

"Then maybe that's why you guys should take things slow. Besides, an outsider getting involved with a wizard can have its own set of complications."

"There is more to it than that," Violar admitted. "I'm not ready for a relationship right now. Some people are lucky in love, I suppose, but I haven't been. I fell in love with a man who has never given me a second glance." She lifted her chin and smiled briefly at Rosa. "Then, not long ago, I developed a… a rather sudden relationship with a mutant who controls fire. I was determined to love him, but it… didn't work out." Her throat tightened. "By the end of it, I'd nearly been killed, and, um… he doesn't have any memory of me now. They said he has amnesia. But that's too long and depressing a story to spoil a fine day like this." Violar glanced away, blinking tears from her eyes. "I'm still getting over it," she whispered. "I'll never be so hasty again."

"Hey, look. I've had my share of relationships that ended badly. Having your heart broken is never fun. But you just have to get through it and move on." She tacked on a smile. "It'll happen for you, eventually."

Violar gulped at the knot in her throat. She had trouble believing that. But, for Rosa's sake, she forced a smile. "It doesn't matter now. It's all in the past. What does matter is that I survived. And it also matters that Jimmy doesn't get hurt in the midst of this. Already I've proven to you and your friends that I fight like a cornered animal when I'm hurt. If I were to allow Jimmy into a deeper relationship with me now, while I'm still nursing these wounds, I might tear him to shreds – and that would kill me. I can't bear to do that to him, and I can't afford it myself. All I am able to safely offer right now is friendship. Do you understand, Rosa?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I do."

Violar abruptly stopped and faced Rosa, searching her eyes. "Will Jimmy understand?"

She hesitated. Violar waited anxiously. Finally, thankfully, Rosa spoke. "I think he will. He likes you and all, but, um . . . well, don't take this the wrong way, but he's only known you for a day. That'll probably make it easier than what happened with other girls like Rana and Mireet and . . . Penny Nichols." Her face darkened.

Relief collided with curiosity. Violar raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem with this Penny lady?"

Rosa emitted a sardonic laugh. "Problem? Oh yeah, there's a problem with that . . . girl." She snarled out "girl" as though it were one of those words some of the teens at Xavier's used so casually, the ones that made Violar's ears burn.

Rosa took a slow breath and continued. "Penny was Jimmy's girlfriend before he left for his year at Hogwarts. She wasn't too thrilled he was going, but they seemed to work things out, and she told him she'd wait for him. Then what happened? About a month later she sent him an owl saying she found someone else and she was breaking up with him."

Violar gasped, instantly infuriated. "How _could_ she? Of all heartless things…"

"That's why I want you to let him down easy," Rosa said. "I think he's getting tired of girls telling him 'no' all the time. But just tell him your reasons the same way you told me and that should be fine."

Violar smiled at Rosa. "Thank you. I shall try it… although, I confess, I have difficulty speaking of such things. Nevertheless, Rosa, I admire your protective attitude towards Jimmy. Would that everyone were blessed with such a friend."

"Hey, the guy's just like a brother to me. If me or Jared or our other friend, Artimus, needs any help, we know Jimmy's always gonna be there for us."

Violar nodded. "He's a fine man, Rosa. What an adventure it has been since Bobby, Kitty and Marie invited me on that road trip to Connecticut," she remarked, turning her face to the sun as if feeling its warmth for the first time. "Despite the dangers and the many uncertainties, it's been worth it – just to meet all of you. Who'd have thought hockey—"

Violar suddenly interrupted herself, whirling on Rosa. "By the mane, Rosa, the hockey tournament. I'd forgotten. Are we too late? Did we miss it?"

Rosa frowned. "Actually, we're not going back to the hockey tournament."

"What?" Violar looked upset. "But you still have yet to win a game, and your team needs you."

"Maybe, but with my concussion and Jimmy getting over that Fire Rash Curse, we're not in any shape for another hockey game. But don't worry. My parents went back and cast some spells on the coach to make him believe me, Jimmy and Bobby came down with the flu and our parents came to get us."

"The flu." Violar's expression softened into a chuckle. Since the flu had knocked out several of the original members of the hockey team, prompting the coach to bring in Bobby, Jimmy, and Rosa as substitute players, it was the perfect excuse. "Good one."

The air felt easier to breathe as they made their way past the invisible wards and security charms. After crossing the last line, Rosa turned to Violar and held out her hand.

"Ready?"

Bypassing Rosa's hand, Violar stepped forward and hugged her.

"Thank you so much for your honesty," said Violar, drawing back again with a smile. "I appreciate it more than I can tell you. You've lightened my heart considerably, and I hope I've done the same for you. And I will speak with Jimmy. Things will… work out, surely."

"They usually do."

Smiling, Violar took hold of Rosa's hand, and centaur and witch vanished with a distinctive _crack._


End file.
